


* 







'^^T^m 







ta 




AN ANALYSIS 



OF 



RELIGIOUS BELIEF, 



BY 

VISCOUNT AMBERLEY. 



'* Te shall knoiu the Truth, and the Truth shall make you Free.^* 



From the late liondon. Ejdition. Complete* 



D. M. BENNETT: 

LIBERAL AND SCIENTIFIC PUBLISHING HOUSE. 

141 Eighth Street, New York, 

1877. 



^^ 



6 







h%'\ . 



^\^ 



48 6555 

JUL 2 1942 



AMERICAN PUBLISHER'S PREFACE. 

The appearance, a few months ago, of The Analysis of Relig- 
ious Belief caused not a little excitement in England, and its 
introduction into our country had much the same effect here. 
While many were more or less shocked by the Viscount's 
boldness of language in examining the sources of the religious 
creeds of the world, and at the freedom with which he removed 
the sacred mask from many antique myths and superstitions, 
the thoughtful and the enquiring were furnished with a fund 
of material for new thought, and largely-increased facilities for 
investigating and comparing the creeds and dogmas which have 
made up the ruling religious faiths of mankind. 

When the Viscount's high birth is remembered; that he was 
the son of Lord John Russell, one of the first and oldest Peers 
of Engla.nd ; that he was thus closely connected with the aris- 
tocracy of that country; that he had been carefully nurtured 
within the fold of the Christian Church; that he had received 
the instruction of a pious Christian mother, from the days of 
his early childhood, that the influence of his parents and his 
early companions was to draw him him under the control of 
the popular system of religion which rules in his country, it is 
not a little remarkable that he had the independence and moral 
bravery to come out in opposition to all his near friends, and to 
avow his unbelief in a code of ethics and opinions unlike those 
taught him in his childhood and youth, an unusual interest 
attaches to the work which he produced. 

When it is borne in mind that his amiable and sympathetic 
wife toiled with him and rendered him essential service in col- 
lecting and arranging the matter for his two volumes ; that she 
was taken from him by the hand of death before his work was 
completed ; that he also sank under the hand of disease and 



iv AMERICAN PUBLISHER'S PREFACE. 

passed away while his work was still in the hands of the 
printer, it is indeed invested with peculiar interest. 

When it is remembered that after his death urgent efforts 
were made — and from high sources too — to suppress his work ; 
that the^powerful Duke of Bedford, backed by Lord John Eussell 
himself, tried to buy up the entire edition issued; it is enough 
to make every sympathetic and enquiring person anxious to read 
the results of his labor of years. 

If some of the advanced thinkers of the day find that Vis- 
count Amberly— as evinced in some of the later chapters of this 
volume — had not in all respects evolved in the line of Free- 
thought so far as they have done they should remember that he 
had at least made rapid progress for the time he had devoted 
to the pursuit of truth. He was still a young man at the time 
of his death, and had it been his lot to have scored a greater 
number of years, with the advantage of the experience which 
they give, it is very possible his views might have undergone 
other modifications. 

The London edition was issued in two volumes, 8vo and 
was necessarily sold at a large price. This American edition 
contains the entire work in one volume and is presented to the 
public at about one-fifth the price at which the English edition 
was sold. It is hoped this feature will be duly appreciated by 
the American public. 

D. M. B. 

New Yoek, March 20th, 1877. 



ADDRESS TO THE READER. 

Ere the pages now given to the public had left the press, the 
hand that had written them was cold, the heart — of which few 
could know the loving depth — had ceased to beat, the far- 
ranging mind was forever still, the fervent spirit was at rest. 

Let this be remembered by those who read, and add solemnity 
to the solemn purpose of the book. 

May those who find in it their most cherished beliefs ques- 
tioned or contemned, their surest consolations set at naught, 
remember that he had not shrunk from pain and anguish to 
himself, as one by one he parted with portions of that faith 
which in boyhood and early youth had been the mainspring of 
his life. 

Let them remember that, however many the years granted 
to him on earth might have been, his search after truth would 
have ended only with his existence; that he would have been 
the first to call for unsparing examination of his own opinions, 
arguments, and conclusions; the first to welcome any new lights 
thrown by other workers in the same field on the mysteries of 
our being and of the universe. 

Let them remember that while he assails much which they 
reckon unassailable, he does so in what to him is the cause of 
goodness, nobleness, love, truth, and of the mental progress of 
mankind. 

Let them remember that the utterance of that which, after 
earnest and laborious thought he deemed to be the truth, was 
to him a sacred duty ; and may they feel, as he would have felt, 
the justness of these words of a good man and unswerving 
Christian lately passed away: '*A man's charity to those who 
differ from him upon great and difficult questions will be in the 
ratio of his own knowledge of them: the more knowledge, the 
more charity.'* F. E. 



INSCMIBED, 

With all reverence and all affection^ to the memory of the ever-lamented 
wife whose hearty interest in this dook was, during many years of pre- 
paratory toil, my best support ; whose judgment as to its merits or its 
faults would have been my most trusted guide; whose sympathy my 
truest encouragement; whose joyous welcome of the completed work I 
had long looked forward to as my one great reward: whose nature, 
combining in rare union scientific clearness with spiritual depth, may 
in some slight degree have left its impress on th£ page, though far too 
faintly to convey an adequate conception of one whose religious zeal in 
the cause of truth was rivaled only hy tJie ardor of her humanity 
and the abundance of h^r love. 

Ravenscroft, 

November 1875. 



TABLE OF CONTENTS. 

PAGE. 

General Introduction . . . . . ,19 

B OOK I. 

EXTEBNAL MANIFESTATIONS OF RELIGIOUS 
SENTIMENT. 

Introduction to Book I. . . . . . . ^ 27 

FIRST PART. 

MEANS OF COMMUNICATION UPWARDS. 

CHAP. 

I. Consecrated Actions ...... 31 

II. Consecrated Places ..... 82 

III. Consecrated Objects ...... 84= 

IV. Consec:qated Persons ..... 88 
V. Consecrated Mediators ..... 99 

SECOND PART. 

MEANS OF COMMUNICATION DOWNWARDS. 

Classification ....... 104 

I. Holy Events ........ lOG 

II. Holy Places . ... . . . . . 12G 

III. Holy Objects . . . . . . 132 

IV. Holy Orders . . ' . . . . .136 
V. Holy Persons or Prophets .... 154 

Sect. 1. Confucius ...... 157 

** 2. Lao-tse ...... 168 

** 3. Gautama Buddha ..... 170 



CONTENTS. 9 

CHAP. PAGE. 

Subdivision 1. The Historical Buddha . 170 

2. The Mythical Buddha . . 175 

" 4. Zarathustra ...... 182 

'* 5. Mahomet . . . . . .186 

*' 6. Jesus Christ 199 

Subdiv'n 1. The Historical Jesus . . 201 

2. The Mythical Jesus . . 216 

3. The Ideal Jesus . . .277 

4. What did the Jews think of him ? 287 

5. What did he think of himself? . 316 

6. What did his Disciples think of him? 326 
•* 7. What are we to think of him ? . 329 



VI. Holy Books, or Bibles ..... 


369 


Sect. 1. 


The Thirteen King . . . 


390 




Subdivision 1. The Lun Yu . . . 


392 




2. The Ta Heo . . . 


393 




3. The Chung Yung 


394 




4. The Works of Mang-tsze . 


396 




" 5. The Shoo King 


403 




6. The She King . 


407 




7. The Ch'un Ts'ew 


410 


" 2. 


Ta6-te-Klng 

Appendix.— Translations of the Ta6-te-King, 


413 




Chapter XXV 


423 


" 3. 


The Veda . . . . . 


425 




Subdivision 1. The Sanhita 


430 




2. The Brahmanas 


443 


Sect. 4 


The Tripitaka . 


448 




Subdivision 1, The Vinaya-Pitaka 


451 




2. The Stitra-Pitaka 


467 




3. The Abhidharma-Pitaka . 


473 




4. Theology and Ethics of the 






Tripitaka 


476 


" 5. 


The Zend-Avesta .... 


482 




Subdivision l. The Five Gathas 


484 




" 2. The Ya9na of Seven Chapters 


488 




3. Ya9Qa, Chapter XII 


490 



10 CONTENTS. 

CHAP. PAGE. 

Subdivision 4. The Younger Ya9na, and Vis- 

pered ... .491 

5, Vendidad ... 496 
*' 6, The Khorda-Avesta, with the 

Homa Yasht . . 502 

" 6. The Koran 510 

" 7. The Old Testament . . . .518 

Subdivision 1. The Historical Books . 530 
" 2. Job, Psalms, Proverbs, and 

Ecclesiastes . . 563 

3. The Song of Solomon . 569 

4. The Prophets . . 569 

5. The God of Israel . 590 
•' 8. The New Testament . . . .604 

Subdivision 1. The Acts of the Apostles 604 

2. The Epistles . . 617 

3. The Apocalypse . . 634 

4. The God of Christendom 636 

THE EELIGIOUS SENTIMENT ITSELF. 

VII. The Ultimate Elements .... 643 

VIII. The Objective Element ..... 649 

IX. The Subjective Element .... 684 
X. The * Relation of the Objective and Subjective 

Elements ,...,. 695 

INDEX . 729 



EXPLANATION OF SHORT TITLES. 

In order to avoid encumbering the pages with notes contain- 
ing the names of books, many of which would require to be 
frequently repeated, I have adopted, in referring to the under- 
mentioned works, the following abbreviations : — 

A. B The Aitareya Brahmanam of the Rig- Veda. Edited, trans- 
lated, and explained by Martin Haug, Ph.D. Vol. i. 

Sanscrit text. Vol. ii. Translation, with notes. Bombay, 

1863. 
A. I. C . ..An Account of the Island of Ceylon, by Robert Percival, 

Esq., of His Majesty's 19th Regiment of Foot. London, 

1803. 
A. M Antiquities of Mexico (Lord Kingsborough's), comprising 

fac similes of Ancient Mexican paintings and hieroglyphics. 

Together with the Monuments of New Spain, by Mons. 

DuPAix ; with their respective scales of measurement and 

accompanying descriptions. The whole illustrated by 

many valuable inedited manuscripts, by Augustine Aglio. 

In 9 vols. London, 1831-18. 
A. N. L. .Ante-Nicene Christian Library ; translations of the Writings 

of the Fathers down to a.d. 325. Edinburgh : T. & T. 

Clark, 1870, &c. 
A. R Algic Researches, comprising inquiries respecting the mental 

characteristics of the North American Indians. First Series. 

Indian Tales and Legends. In 3 vols. ByJlENRY Rowe 

Schoolcraft. New York, 1839. 
Asha Ashantee and the Gold Coast, by John Beecham. London, 

1841. 
A. S. L.. .History of Ancient Sanskrit Literature, by Max Muller. 

London, 1859. 
As. Re ... . Researches of the Asiatic Society in Bengal. Calcutta, 

1788-1839. 
Av Avesta, die Heiligen Schriften der Parsen. Aus dem Grund- 

texte iibersetzt, mit steter Riicksicht auf die Tradition. 

Von Dr. Fried. Spiegel. Erster Band. Der Vendidad 



xii EXPLANATION OF SHORT TITLES. 

Leipzig, 1852. Zweiter Band. Vispered und Ya9na. Leip- 
zig, 1859. Dritter Band. Kliorda-Avesta. Leipzig, 1863. 

B. A. U . .Bibliotlieca Indica. Vol. ii. part iii. Tlie Brihad Aran- 
yaka Upanisliad, with the Commentary of Sankara 
A'cha'rya. Translated from the Original Sanskrit by Dr. 
E. RoER. Calcutta, 1856. 

Bergeron... Voyages f aits principalement en Asie, dans les XII®, XIIP, 
XIV®, et XV® si^cles, par Benjamin de Tud^le, Jean du 
Plan-Carpin, N. Ascelin, Guil. de Rabruquis, Marc-Paul, 
Haiton, Jean de Mandeville et Ambroise Contarini ; accom- 
pagnes de rHlstoire des Sarrazins et des Tartares, par P. 
Bergeron. A la Haye, 1735. 

Bernard. . .Recueil des Voyages au Nord. Amsterdam, chez Jean 
Prbderic Bernard, 1727. 

Bh. G The Bhagavat-Gita ; or a Discourse between Krishna and 

Arjana on Divine Matters. A Sanskrit Philosophical 
Poem ; translated, with copious notes, an Introduction 
on Sanskrit Philosophy, and other matters, by J. Cockburn 
Thomson. Hertford, 1855. 

Bib Apollodori Bibliotheca. 

B. T Buddhism in Tibet, by Emil Schlagintweit, LL.D. Leip- 

zig and London, 1863. 

C. B. A. . . A Catena of Buddhist Scriptures from the Chinese, by Sam'l 

Beal. London, 1871. 

C. C The Chinese Classics, with a translation, critical and exeget- 

ical notes, prolegomena, and cppious indexes, by James 
Legge, D.D. In 7 vols. Vol. i. Confucian Analects, the 
Great Learning, and the Doctrine of the Mean. Vol. ii. 
"Works of Mencius. Vol. iii. 2 parts. The Shoo King. 
Vol. iv. 2 parts, The She King. Vol. v. the Ch'un Ts'ew. 
London, 1861, &c. (In course of publication.) 

Ceylon.... Ceylon, an Account of the Island, physical, historical, and 
topographical, with notices of its natural history, antiqui- 
ties, and productions, by Sir James Emerson Tennent. 
K. C. S. , LL. D. , &c. London, 1859. 

C. G A new and accurate Description of the Coast of Guinea, 

divided into the Gold, the Slave, and the Ivory Coasts. 
Written originally in Dutch, by William Bosman. The 
2d edition. London, 1721. 

Chan. Up.. Bibliotheca Indica, Nos. 78 and 181. The Chandogya 
Upanishad of the Sama Veda, with extracts from the 
Commentary of Sakara A'cha'rya. Translated from the 
original Sanskrit by Rajendrala Mitra. Calcutta. 1862. 

Chinese ...The Chinese: a general Description of China and its In- 
habitants, by John Francis Davis, Esq., P.R.S. A new- 
edition. London, 1844. 



EXPLANATIONS OF SHOET TITLES. xiil 

Chips Chips from a German "Workshop, by Max Muller, M.A. 4 

vols. London, 1867-75. 

C. N. E. . .Historia General de las Cosas de Nueva Espana, que en doce 
libros y dos volumes eseribio el R P. Fi?, Bernaedino de 
Sahagun, de la Observancia de San Francisco, y uno de 
los primeros predicadores del Santo Evangelio en aquellas 
regioues. Dala a luz con notas y supplementos, Carlos 
Maria de Bustamante. Mexico, 1829. 

C. O China Opened, by the Rev. Charles Gutzlapp, revised 

by the Rev. Andrew Reid, D.D. In 3 vols. London, 
1838. 

C. R Primera Parte de los " Comraentarios Reales, que tratan del 

Origen de los Yncas," Reyes que fueron del Peru, de su 
Idolatria, leyes, y govierno en paz y en guerra ; de sus vidas 
y conquistas, y de toto lo que fue aquel Imperio y su Repub- 
lica, antes que los Espanoles passan a el. Escrito por el 
Ynca Garcilasso be la Yega, natural del Cozco, y Capi- 
tan de su Magestad. Lisbon, 1609. 

Dervishes.. The Dervishes; or Oriental Spiritualism, by John P. Brown. 
London, 1868. 

E. M Eastern Monacbism, by Robert Spence Hardy. London, 

1850. 

E. Y Eleven Years in Ceylon, by Major Forbes, 78tb Highlanders. 

London, 1840. 

F. G Die flinf GSthd,'s, oder Sammlungen von Liedern und 

Spriichen Zarathustra's, seiner Jiinger und Nachfolger. 
Herausgegeben, iibersetzt und erklart von Dr. Martin 
Haug. Erste Abtheilung. Die erste Sammlung (Gdth^ 
ahunavaiti) enthaltend. Leipzig, 1858. Zweite Abtheilung. 
Die vier ubrigen Sammlungen enthaltend. Kebst einer 
Schlussabhandlung. Leipzig, 1860. 
Gaudama..The Life, or Legend of Gaudama, the Buddha of the Bur- 
mese, with annotations. The ways to Neibban, and notice 
on the Phongyies, or Burmese Monks, by the Rt. Rev. P^ 
BiGANDET. Rangoon, 1866. 

G. d. M. ..C. G. A. Oldendorp's Geschichte der Mission der evangelis 

chen Briider auf den Caraibischen Inseln St. Thomas, Stl 

Croix, und St. Jean. , Barby, 1777. 
H. B. I. ...Introduction a I'Histoire du Buddhisme Indien, par E. Burn- 

oup. Tome premier. Paris, 1844. 
H. G David Cranz. Histoire von Gronland. Ntirnberg und 

Leipzig, 1782. 
H. I Historia natural y moral de las Indias, en que se tratan las 

cosas notables del ciclo, y elementos, metales, plant as, y 

animales dellas; y los ritos, y ceremonias, leyes, y govierno, 

y guerras de los Indios. Compuesta por el Pardre Joseph 



Xiv EXPLANATIONS OF SHORT TITLES. 

DE AcosTA, Religioso de la Compania de Jesus. Madrid, 
1608. 

H. N. S...Histoire naturelle et politique du Royaume de Siam, par 
Nicholas Gervaise. Paris, 1688. 

H. R. C. ..An Historical Relation of the Island of Ceylon in the East 
Indies, together with an account of the detaining in cap- 
tivity the Author and divers other Englishmen now living 
there, and of the Author's miraculous escape, by Robert 
Knox, a captive there nearly twenty years. London, 1681. 

Ic. Ch.....Iconographie Chretienne. Histoire de Diau, par M. Didron. 
Paris, 1843. 

K.... The Koran, translated from the Arabic, the Suras arranged 

in chronological order; with notes and index, by the Rev. 
J. M. RoDWELL, M. A. London and Edinburgh, 1871. 

Kamtschatka. .GrEORGE Wilhelm Steller's Beschreibung von dem 
Lande Kamtschatka, dessen Einwohnern, deren Sitten, 
Namen, Lebensart und verchiedenen Gewohnheiten. Frank- 
furt und Leipzig, 1774. 

K. N The Kafirs of Natal, by J. Shooter. London and Guild- 
ford, 1857. 

L. L. M...Das Leben und die Lehre des Mohammad, nach bisher 
grosstentheils unbenutzten Quellen. Bearbeitet von A 
Sprenger. 3 vols. Berlin, 1869. 

Lotos Le Lotos de la Bonne Loi, traduit du Sanskrit, accompagne 

d'un commentaire, et de vingt-et-un memoireS relatifs au 
Buddhisme, par M. E. Burnoup. Paris, 1852. 

L. T Lao-tse Tao-tS-king. Der Weg zur Tugend. Aus dem 

Chinesischen tibersetzt und erklart von Reinhold von 
Planckner. Leipzig, 1870. 

Manu Institutes of Hindu Law, or the Ordinances of Menu, accord- 
ing to the Gloss of Culluca. Comprising the Indian 
system of duties, religious and civil. Verbally translated 
from the original, with a preface, by Sir William Jones. 
A new edition, collated with the Sanskrit text, by Graves 
Chamney Hatjghton., M.A., F.R.S., &c. London, 1825. 

M. B Manual of Buddhism, by R. Spence Hardy. London, 1860. 

M. d'O....Les Moines d'Occident depuis Saint Benoit jusqu'a Saint 
Bernard, Parle le Comte de Montalembert. In 5 vols. 
Paris et Lyon, 1868. 

Misc. Essays. .Miscellaneous Essays, by H. T. Colebrooke. 2 vols. 
London, 1837. (The only complete edition, however, is the 
one published in 3 vols., London, 1873.) 
M. N. W. .The Myths of the New World; a Treatise on the Symbolism 
and Mythology of the red race of America, by Daniel G. 
Brinton, A.m., M.D. New York, 1868. 
N. A An Account of the Native Africans in the neighborhood of 



EXPLANATIONS OF SHORT TITLES. xv 

Sierra Leone, by Thomas Winterbottom. 2 vols. Lon- 
don, 1803. 

N. F Histoire et Description generale de la Nouvelle France, avec 

le journal historique d'un voyage fait par ordre du Roi 
dans TAmerique Septentrionale. Par le P. de Charle- 
voix, de la Compagnie de Jesus 3 Vols. Paris, 1744. 

N. M. E. ..A Narrative of Missionary Enterprises in the South Sea 
Islands, with remarks upon the natural history of the Is- 
lands, origin, languages, traditions, and usages of the inhab- 
itants, by the Rev. John AVilliams. London. 1837. 

N. S. W-.An account of the English Colony in New South Wales, 
from its first settlement in January, 1788, to August, 1801, 
by Lieutenant-Colonel Collins, of the Royal Marines. 
London, 1804. 

N. Y Nineteen years in Polynesia: Missionary Life, Travels, and 

Researches in the Islands of the Pacific, by the Rev. 
George Turner. London, 1861. 

N. Z New Zealand and its Aborigines, by William Brown. 

London, 1845, 

0-kee-pa..O-kee-pa: A Religious Ceremony; and other customs of the 
Mandans, by George Catlin. London, 1867. 

O. P The Speculations on Metaphysics, Polity, and Morality of 

" the Old Philosopher," Lau-tsze, translated from the 
Chinese, with an Introduction, by John Chalmers, A. M. 
London, 1868. 

O. 8. T. . .Original Sanskrit Texts on the origin and history of the peo- 
ple of India, their Religion and Institutions. Collected, 
translated, and illustrated by J. Mum, D.C.L., LL.D. Vol- 
ume First. Mythical and Legendary Accounts of the Ori- 
gin of Caste, with an inquiry into its existence in the Vedic 
age. 2d edition. London, 1868. Volume Second. Inquiry 
whether the Hindus are of Trans-Himalayan Origin, and 
akin to the Western branches of the Indo-European Race. 
2d edition. London, 1871. Volume Third. The Vedas: 
opinions of their authors and of later Indian writers on 
their origin, inspiration, and authority. 2d edition. Lon- 
don, 1868. Volume Fourth. Comparison of the Vedic with 
the later representations of the principal Indian deities. 2d 
edition. London, 1873. Volume Fifth. Contributions 
to a Cosmogony, Mythology,, Religious Ideas, Life and 
Manners of the Indians in the Vedic age. London, 1870. 

P. A An Examination of the Pali Buddhistical Annals, by the 

Honorable George Turnour, of the Ceylon Civil Ser- 
vice. [From the Journal of the Asiatic Society for July 
1837.] 

P. A. B. ..Die Propheten des Alten Bundes, erklart von Heinrich 



xvi EXPLANATIONS OP SHOET TITLES. 

EwALD. Zweite Ausgabe in drei Banden. Erster Band. 
Jesaja mit den iibrigen alteren Propheten. Gottingen, 
1867. Zweiter Band. Jermja und Hezequiel mit ihren 
Zeitgenossen. Gottingen, 1868. Dritter Band. Die jiing- 
sten Propheten des Alten Bundes mit den Biichern Barukh 
und Daniel. Gottingen, 1868. 

Parsees. . . Essays on the Sacred Language, Writings, and Religion of 
the Parsees, by Martin Haug, Ph.D. Bombay, 1862. 

Picard . . . . The Ceremonies and Religious Customs of the various 
Nations of the known World, by Mr. Bernard Picard. 
Faithfully translated into English by a gentleman. Lon- 
don, 1733. 

Popol Vuh.Popol Vuh. — Le Livre Sacre et les Mythes de I'Antiquite 
Americaine, avec les livres heroiques et historiques des 
Quiches. Texte Quiche et traduction Fran9aise en regard 
&c., &c. Compose sur des documents originaux et inedits, 
par I'Abbe Brasseur de Bourbourg. Paris, 1861. 

R. B Die Religion des Buddha und ihre Entstehung, von Karl 

Friedrich Koppon. Erster Band. Die Religion des 
Buddha und ihre Entstehung. Berlin, 1857. Zweiter 
Band. Die Lamaische Hierarchic und Kirche. Berlin, 
1859. 

Rel. of Jews. The Book of the Religion, Ceremonies, and Prayers of the 
Jews, as practiced in their synagogues and Families on all 
Occasions; on their Sabbath and other Holidays through- 
out the year. Translated immediately from the Hebrew, 
by Gamaliel ben Pedazur, Gent. London, 1738. 

R. I Die Religiosen, Politischen, und Socialen Ideen der Asiat- 

schen Culturvolker und der Aegypter, in ihrer histori- 
scben Entwickelung, dargestellt von Carl Twesten. 
Herausgegeben von Prof. Dr. M. Lazarus. 3 vols. Ber- 
lin, 1873. 

Roer Bibliotheca Indica, Nos. 1 to 4. The first two Lectures of 

the Rig-Veda-Sanhita. Edited by Dr. E. Roer. Calcutta, 
1848. 

R. S. A. ..The Religious System of the Amazulu, by the Rev. Canon 
Callaway, M.D. Part i. Unkulunkulu; or the Traditio^i 
of Creation as existing among the Amazulu and other 
tribes of South Africa, in their own words, with a transla- 
tion into English, and notes. Part ii. Amatongo, or An- 
cestor-Worship. Part iii. Izinyanga Zokubula, or Divina- 
tion. Xatal, &c., 1868-70. 

R. T. R. P..Rgya Tcher Rol Pa, ou Developpement dee Jeux, contenant 
I'histoiie du Bouddha Cakya-Mouni, traduit sur la version 
Tibetaine du Bkah Hgyour, et revu sur I'original Sanscrit 
(Lalitavistara) par Ph. Ed. Foucaux. Preniidre Partie. 



EXPLANATIONS OF SHOET TITLES. xvii 

Texte Tibetain. Paris, 1847. Deuxi^me Partie. Traduc- 
tion Frangaise. Paris, 1848. 

R. V. S. . .Rig-Yeda-Sanliita. The Sacred Hymns of the Brahmans, 
translated and explained by F. Max MtJLLER, M, A., LL.D. 
Yol. i. Hymns to the Maruts or the Storm-Gods. Lon- 
don, 1869. 

S. A Savage Africa; the Narrative of a Tour in Equatorial, South- 
Western, and North-Western Africa, by W. Winwood 
Reade. London, 1863. 

Sale The Koran, commonly called the Alcoran of Mohammed; 

translated into English immediately from the original 
Arabic. With explanatory notes, taken from the most 
approved Commentators. To which is prefixed a prelimi- 
nary discourse, by George Sale, Gent. A new edition, 
with a memoir of the translator, and with various readings 
and illustrative notes from Savary's version of the Koran. 
London,. 1867. 

S. L A Voyage to the River Sierra Leone, on the Coast of Africa, 

by John Matthews, Lieutenant in the Royal Navy; during 
his residence in that country in the years 1785, 1786, and 
1787. London, 1791. 

S. L. A. . Savage Life and Scenes in Australia and New Zealand, by 
George French Angas. London, 1847. 

Ssabismus.Die Ssabier und der Ssabismus, von Dr D. Chwolsohn. 
Band I. Die Entwickelung der Begriffe Ssabier und Ssabis- 
mus und die Geschichte der harranischen Ssabier, oder der 
Syro-hellenistischen Heiden im nordlichen Mesopotamien 
und in BagdM, zur Zeit des Chalifats. Band II. Orien- 
talische Quellen zur Geschichte der Ssabier und des Ssabis- 
mus. St. Petersburg, 1856. 

S. V Die Hymen des SSma-Veda, herausgegeben, iibersetzt und 

mit Glossar versehen, von Theodore Benpey. Leipzig, 
1848. 

T. R. A. S. Transactions of the Royal Asiatic Society of Great Britain 
and Ireland. London, 1827-35. 

T. T. K. . La5-tse's Ta5 T€ King, Aus dem Chinesischen ins Deutsche 
iibersetzt, eingeleitet und commentirt, von Victor von 
Strauss. Leipzig, 1870. 

V. G Voyage du Chevalier Des Marchais en Guinee, Isles 

voisines, et t, Cayenne, fait en 1725. 

Viti Viti: An Acount of a Government Mission to the Vitian or 

Fijian Islands in the years 1860-61, by Berthold See" 
MANN, Ph. D. , F. L. S. , F. R. G. S. Cambridge, 1862. 

Wassiljew.Der Buddhismus, seine Dogmen, Geschichte und Litteratur, 
von W. Wassiljew. Erster Theil. Allgemeine Ueber- 
sicht. Aus dem Russischen iibersetzt. St. Petersburg 1860. 



Xviii EXPLANATIONS OF SHORT TITLES. 

W. E. — The World Encompassed, by Sir Francis Drake, 1577-80. 
Written by Francis Fletcher; collated with an unpub- 
lished MS. Edited with Appendices and Introduction by 
W. S. W. Vaux. 8vo, map, London, Hakluyt Society, 
1855. 

Wheel The Wheel of the Law. Buddhism illustrated from Siamese 

sources by the Modern Buddhist, a Life of Buddha, and 
an account of the Phrabat, by Henry Alabaster, E^q. 
London, 1871. 

Wilson. ...Rig-Veda-Sanhita. Translated from the original Sanskrit, 
by H. H. Wilson, M.A., F.RS. Vol. i. The first Ash- 
taka, or Book, of the Rig-Veda. 2d edition. London, 
1866. Vol. ii. The second Ashtaka. London, 1854. 
Vol, iii. The third and fourth Ashtaka;?. London, 1857. 
Vol. iv. The fifth Ashtaka. Edited by E. B. Cowell, 
M.A. London, 1866. 

W. u. T..Der Weise und der Thor. Aiis dem Tibetischen iibersetzt 
und mit dem Originaltexte herausgegeben von I. J. 
Schmidt. St. Petersburg, 1843. 

W. W Works by the Late Horace Hayman Wilson, 12 vols. 

London, 1862-71. 

Y Commentaire sur le Ya9na, I'un des Livres Religieux des 

Parses; ouvrage contenant le texte Zend explique pom- 
la premiere fois; les variantes des quatie manuscrits de la 
Bibliothdque Royale; et la version Sanscrite inedite de 
Neriosengh, par Eugene Burnouf. Tome i. Paris, 1833. 
Tome ii. Paris, 1835. 

Z. A Zend Avesta, Ouvrage de Zoroastre, traduit en Francois sur 

Toriginal Zend, avec des remarques; et accompagne de 
plusieurs traites propres a eclaircir les matidres qui en 
sont Tobjet, par M. Anquetil du Perron. 3 vols. Paris, 
1771. 



AN ANALYSIS OF RELIGIOUS BELIEF. 



GENERAL INTRODUCTION. 

Human nature, among all the phenomena it offers to the 
curious inquiries of the student, presents none of more tran- 
scendent interest than the phenomenon of Eeligion. Pervading 
the whole liistory of mankind from the very earliest ages of 
which we have any authentic imowledge up to the present day; 
exercising on the wild and wandering tribes, which seem to 
have divided the earth among them in those primitive times, 
an influence scarcely less profound than it has ever exercised on 
the most polite and cultivated nations of the modern world; 
leading now to peace and now to war; now to the firmest of 
alliances, now to the bitterest enmities; uniting some in the 
bonds of a love so enduring as to outlast and put to shame the 
fleeting unions of earthly passion ; separating others, even when 
every motive of interest and natural affection conspired to unite 
them, so completely as to impel them to deliver each other up 
to the ghastliest tortures ; Eeligion deserves a foremost place — 
if not the foremost place of all— among the emotions which 
have in their several ways affected, modified, and controlled the 
current of human events. 

Forming, as it does, so large an element in the constitution 
of our complex nature, and playing so vast a part in guiding 
our actions, Eeligion must well deserve to be made the subject 
of philosophical inquiry. If we can by any scientific means dis- 
cover its origin, lay bare its true character to the gaze of stu- 
dents, and estimate the value of its pretensions to be in posses- 



2a GENERAL INTEODUCTION. 

sion of truths of equal, if not superior, authority to those of 
either natural or moral science, we shall have performed a task 
which may not be wholly useless or altogether uninstructive. 

Our first business, in such an inquiry as this, should be to 
determine the method on which it ought to be conducted. In 
analyzing the religious systems of the world, the question of 
method is all-important. Indeed, it will be abundantly evident 
in the course o'f the ensuing investigations that the conclusions 
reached by those who have cultivated this field of knowledge 
have often been unsound, simply because they have failed to 
pursue the only proper method. Nothing can be easier, for 
instance, than to construct elaborate systems of religious phi- 
losophy, the several parts of which hang so well together that 
we find it difficult to urge any solid objection against them, 
while yet the whole edifice rests upon so insecure a foundation 
that at the least touch of its lowest stones it will fall in ruins 
to the ground. This too common mistake arises from the fact 
that the first principles of the system are assumed without ade- 
quate warrant, and will not bear examination. Half, if not 
many more than half, the common errors of believers in the 
various current creeds are due to a similar cause. These per- 
sons start from some principle which they conceive to be indis- 
putable, and proceed to draw inferences from it with the most 
complete confidence. An extreme instance of this is mentioned 
by Dr. Sprenger, who was asked by a Musselman how he could 
disbelieve the religion of Islam, seeing that Mahomet's name 
was written on the gates of paradise. In a less palpable form, 
the same mode of reasoning is constantly adopted among our- 
selves. Either we do not take the trouble to submit the evi- 
dence of the facts upon which we erect our arguments to a 
sufficiently rigorous scrutiny, or we fail to perceive that the 
axioms we take for granted are in reality neither self-evident, 
as our system requires, nor capable of any satisfactory demon- 
stration. 

Another and perhaps scarcely a less common kind of error 
arising from defective method is a failure to distinguish between 
adequate and inadequate evidence of religious truth. A sound 
and exhaustive method would not fail to disclose, if not what 
kind of evidence is sufficient, at least what kind of evidence is 



GENERAL INTRODUCTION. 21 

insufficient, to prove our doctrines. It is plain that if we 
should find arguments of the same character used by the adhe- 
rents of different creeds to prove contradictory propositions, we 
should be forced to dismiss such arguments as of comparatively 
little value. Supposing, for example, that a Hebrew, desirous of 
l^roving the preeminence of the Jews over the Gentiles, 
should rely for his justification on the miraculous deliver- 
ance of the ancient Israelites from the Egyptians, and on their 
subsequent special protection by the Deity, his argument, how- 
ever apparently conclusive, would be considerably weakened if 
it were found that the annals of other nations contained simi- 
lar tales evincing a similar exclusive care for their welfare on 
the part of their local divinities. Or if we should claim for our 
own school the advantage of being supported by the authority 
of a long succession of able, wise, and virtuous men, fully com- 
petent to judge of its truth, yet if our adversaries can produce 
an equally imposing list of authorities against us, we shall have 
gained but little by our mode of reasoning. These one-sided 
ways of proving the exclusive claims of a particular creed are 
as if a person should maintain the vast superiority of his coun- 
trymen over foreigners by a reference to the battles they had 
won, the territory they had conquered, and the bravery they 
had displayed; forgetful to inquire whether there were not 
other nations which had gained victories equally transcendent, 
made conquests equally extensive, and evinced a heroism 
equally admirable. 

These blunders, it may be objected, do not arise exclusively 
from a faulty method. It is true that they have a deeper 
source, yet, if a correct method were pursued they would be 
avoided. Hence the paramount importance of fixing upon one 
which shall not be likely to lead us astray.^ 

Now, the method which in the natural sciences, and in the 
science of language, has led to such vast results, may be, and 
ought to be pursued here. This method is that of comparison. 

When the philologist is desirous of discovering what ele- 
ments, if any, a group of languages possesses in common, and 
what therefore may be considered as its fundamental stock, or 
essence, he compares them with one another. When the natur- 
alist wishes to arrive at an accurate knowledge of the confor- 



22 GENERAL INTRODUCTION. 

mation, habits, or character of any class of animals, he can 
only do so by a comparison of different members of that class. 
How misleading our conclusions frequently are in matters like 
these when they are not based upon a sufficiently wide compar- 
ison, will be familiar to all. And though the analogy between 
these sciences and religion is far from precise, yet no good rea- 
son can be assigned why a method, which has been so success- 
ful in one case, should be totally neglected in the latter. Nor 
is it enough to say that this method is capable of application 
to the subject in hand. Eeligion, owing to certain characteris- 
tics which will now be explained, lends itself with peculiar 
facility to an inquiry thus conducted. 

A merely superficial and passing glance at the phenomena 
presented to us by the history and actual condition of the 
world brings clearly to light two facts : 

1. The absolute, or all but absolute universality of some kind 
of religious perception or religious feeling. 

2. The countless variety of forms under which that feeling 
has made its appearance. 

History and the works of travelers, amply prove that no con- 
siderable nation has ever been without religion, and that if it 
has ever been wanting, it has only been among the rudest sav- 
ages, whose mental and moral condition was too low to be capa- 
ble of any but the most obvious impressions of sense. Equally 
indubitable is the second proposition. We are acquainted with 
no period in which eacn country did not possess its own special 
variety of religious doctrine ; we are acquainted with none in 
which there were not many and wide divergences within the 
bosom of each country among individuals, among sects, and 
among churches. 

In this universality of a certain sentiment, accompanied by 
this variety of modes, we have at least a possible distinction 
between the Substance and the Form, between the universal 
emotion known as Eeligion, and the local or temporary color- 
ing it may happen to assume. 

It will be convenient if we call the substance by the name of 
Faith, and the form by that of Belief. The use of these terms 
in these senses is no doubt slightly arbitrary, yet the shade of 
difiference in their ordinary meaning is sufficient to justify it. 



GENERAL jNTEODUCTION. 23 

Faith is a term of large and general signification, referring 
rather to the feelings than -the reason ; whereas Belief generally 
implies the intellectual adoption of some definite proposition, 
capable of distinct statement in words. 

The importance of the comparative method in the process of 
sifting, classifying, and ordering the elements of these respect- 
ive spheres will now be apparent. For it is only by a compar- 
ison of the varieties of Belief that we can hope to arrive at an 
acquaintance with Faith. Setting one system beside another, 
carefully observing wherein they differ and wherein they agree, 
we may at length hope to discover what elements, if any, are to 
be set down to the account of Faith, and what other elements 
to that of Belief. Even after a full comparison there will still 
be considerable danger that we may mistake tenets which are 
widely held, but not universal, for primordial conceptions of 
the human mind. Without such a comparison, we should most 
undoubtedly do so, for we are ever unwilling to recognize how 
wide are the limits of variation of which the opinions and sen- 
timents of men' are capable. 

Should we, however, succeed in eliminating by our analysis 
all that is local, and all that is temporary, we shall possess, in 
what remains to us after this process, a universal truth of 
human nature. Observe that I speak here of a truth of human 
nature as distinguished from a truth of external nature. The 
one does not of necessity imply the other, for it is conceivable 
that men might universally entertain certain hopes, fears, aspi- 
rations, or convictions which were wholly groundless; the sup- 
posed objects of which had no existence whatever beyond the 
mind that entertained them. In the present case, then, all that 
the most exhaustive comparison could do would be to lead us 
up to the scientific fact, that there is in human beings an irre- 
sistible tendency towards certain sentiments of a spiritual kind. 
Whether those sentiments can be the foundation of any rational 
conviction it is unable to tell us. 

This question, however, is fully as important as the other, 
and I do not propose to pass it over jn silence. It will be one 
object of our investigation to discover how far we are entitled 
to treat truths of human nature as identical with objective 
truths. If we are obliged to confess that no inference can be 



24 GENERAL INTRODUCTION. 

drawn from the one to the other, then it will be plain that 
Faith, however profoundly imi^lanted in our hearts, does not 
convey to us any assurance of a single religious truth; for the 
impressions which we call our Faith may be as purely illusory 
as the fancies of delirium, or the images of our dreams. If, on 
the other hand, an internal sentiment may be accepted, not so 
much as a basis for truth, but as itself true; as leading, and 
not misleading us ; then we must further examine what are the 
truths which are in a manner contained in Faith, and of which 
Faith is the warrant. 

The first Book, therefore, will deal mainly with Belief. Its 
object will be, by a comparison of some of the various creeds 
that are, or have been, accepted by men, to discover the gen- 
eral characteristics of Belief, and to separate these from the 
more special and distinctive elements peculiar to given times, 
districts, and races. These general characteristics will, however, 
belong exclusively to the region of Belief, and not to that of 
Faith. In other words, they will have no title to a place in a 
Universal Eeligion. 

In the second Book we shall proceed to investigate the 
nature of Faith. We shall endeavor to lay bare the foundation 
of the vast superstructure of Theology and Kitual erected by 
the piety of the human race. We shall seek to discover, if that 
be possible, the element of unity amid so much variety, of per- 
manence amid so much change. And should we be successful 
in the search, we shall be in a position, if not absolutely to 
solve, at least to attempt the solution of the great problem 
which ever has interested, and ever must interest mankind: Is 
there any such thing as positive truth in the sphere of Eelig- 
ion ? And if so, wliat is it ? Or are the human faculties strictly 
limited to that species of knowledge which is acquired through 
the medium of the senses, and doomed, in all spiritual things, 
to be the victims of endless longings for which there is no 
satisfaction, and of perpetual questionings to which there is no 
response ? 



INTRODUCTION. 

Religious Feeling, like all other human emotions, makes 
itself objectively known to us by its manifestations. With its 
subjective character we are now concerned, our business in the 
present book being to treat it merely as an objective phenome- 
non. Thus regarded, its manifestations appear extremely vari- 
ous, but on closer examination they will be found to spring from 
a common principle. This principle is the desire felt by the 
human race in general to establish a relationship between itself 
and those superhuman or supernatural powers upon whose will 
it supposes the course of nature and the well-being of men to 
be dependent. Were it not for this desire, the Eeligious Idea — 
if I may venture by this term to denominate the original senti- 
ment which is the beginning of positive religion — might remain 
locked up for ever in the breast of each individual who felt it. 
But there is innate in human beings — arriving like wanderers 
in the midst of a world they cannot understand — an overpow- 
ering wish to enter into some sort of communication with the 
mysterious agencies of whose extraordinary force they are con- 
tinually conscious, but which appear to be hidden from their 
observation in impenetrable darkness. 

Any man who seems able to give information as to the na- 
ture of these agencies ; who can declare their wishes with regard 
to the conduct of men ; who can assert, with apparent authority, 
their determination to reward certain kinds of actions, and to 
punish others, is listened to with avidity; and if he is believed 
to speak truly his counsels are followed. Any tradition which 
is held to make known the proper manner of approaching these 
great powers is devoutly conserved, and becomes the foundation 
of the conduct of many generations. Any writing which is con- 
secrated by popular belief as either emanating directly from 

27 



28 INTEODUCTION TO BOOK I. 

these powers, or as having been composed under their author- 
ity and at their dictation, is regarded with profound reverence ; 
and no one is allowed to question either its statements of fact 
or its injunctions. What are the particular characteristics which 
enable either men, traditions, or writings to acquire so extraor- 
dinary an authority, it is difficult, if not impossible, to say. 
Some approach to a reply may be made in the course of the 
inquiry, but much will still remain unaccounted for: one of 
those ultimate secrets of our nature which admit of no com- 
plete discovery. Certain it is, however, that this passionate 
longing to enter into some kind of relation with the unknown 
receives its satisfaction in the earliest stages of human society, 

Man, isolated, fearful, struck with wonder at his own exist- 
ence, craves to become acquainted with the Divine will, to hear 
the accents of the Divine voice, to offer up his petitions to those 
higher beings who are able to grant them, and to offer them up 
in such a manner that they may be willmg as well as able. Im- 
pelled by this craving, the Eeligious Idea passes out of its con- 
dition of -vague emotion into that of positive opinion. It be- 
comes manifest, or, if I may use an appropriate image, incar- 
nate. 

The means by which the wished-for intercourse between man 
and the higher powers is effected are obviously twofold : such 
as convey information from the worshipers to their deities, and 
such as convey it from the deities back to their worshipers. In 
other words they might be described as serving for communica- 
tion upwards, or communication downw^ards; from mankind to 
God, or from God to mankind. In the former case human be- 
ings are the agents ; in the latter the patients. In the f#rmer, 
they consciously and intentionally place themselves, or endeavor 
to place themselves, in correspondence with the unseen powers ; 
in the latter, they simply receive the injunctions, reproofs, or 
other intimations with which those powers may think fit to 
favor them. 

The methods by which this correspondence is sought to be 
effected are very various. Let us take first those which carry 
the thoughts of men's hearts upwards. 

1. The earliest, simplest, and most universal method is the 
performance of certain solemnities of a regularly recurrent 



IlSfTKODUCTION TO BOOK I. 29 

kind, which, as expressive of their object, I will term consecra- 
ted actions. Such actions are prayer, praise, sacrifice, ceremo- 
nies and rites, offerings, and, in short, all the numerous exter- 
nal acts comprehended under the term Worship. 

2. The second is the consecration of distinct places for the 
purpose of carrying on such worship, or otherwise approaching 
the Deity more closely and solemnly than can be done on com- 
mon and unsanctified ground. These I term consecrated places. 

3. Thirdly, we have a large class of objects dedicated ex- 
pressly to religious purposes. Such are votive offerings of all 
kinds ; pictures, statues, vestments, gifts bestowed on the priest- 
hood for employment in Divine worship, or whatever else the 
piety of the devotees of any deity may induce them to with- 
draw from their 'own consumption, and set apart for his service. 
These are consecrated objects. 

4. Devoutly disposed persons seek to enter into a more than 
commonly direct relation with their god by dedication of their 
own persons to him, such dedication being signified by some 
special characteristics in their mode of life. Such are ascetics 
of all descriptions, whether they be known as Essenes, Nazar- 
ites. Bonzes, monks, or any other term. I describe them hence- 
forward as consecrated persons. 

5. Lastly, we have a class of men who are also consecrated, 
but who differ from the preceding in that the object of their 
consecration is not personal but social. They are devoted to 
the service of the deity not in order that they individually may 
enter into more intimate relations with him, but that they may 
carry on the needful intercourse between the community at 
large and its gods. To emphasize this distinction, I call them 
consecrated mediators. 

The second great division of our subject is that which treats 
of the several modes by which divine ideas are carried down- 
wards. And here we will follow a classification corresponding 
as nearly as possible to that adopted in the preceding section. 

1. First, then, the Deity conveys his will or his intention 
through events ; such as omens, auguries, miracles, dreams, and 
many other phenomena. All these may be termed hohj events. 

2. Secondly, there are certain spots which are either favora- 
ble to the reception of supernatural communications, or have 



30 INTRODUCTION TO BOOK I. 

on some occasion been tho scene of such a communication, 
which we will call holy places. 

3. Thirdly, certain objects are held to possess mysterious 
powers, as that of healing disease. Eelics, articles that have 
been used by holy men, and such like remains, come within 
this category. They may be described as holy objects. 

4. All communities above the very lowest employ professional 
persons for the express object of conveying to them the will of 
their Deity, or discovering his intentions as to the future. The 
most usual name for such functionaries is that of Priest, and 
for the sake of embracing all ecclesiastical or quasi-ecclesiast- 
ical classes under one designation I shall call them hohj orders. 

5. The possession of a professional character distinguishes 
them from the next class, who serve as the fifth channel be- 
tween God and man, but who differ from the fourth in the cir- 
cumstance of being self-appointed. Prophets (for it is of these 
I am speaking) receive no regular consecration; nevertheless 
the part they have played in the religious history of mankind 
has been of such transcendent importance that they deserve to 
be placed in a class apart under the title of holy persons. 

6. Sixthly, there remains a mode of communication from God 
to man to which there is nothing corresponding on our side ; it 
is that of written documents. Man has never (so far as I am 
aware) imagined himself capable of sending a letter or written 
composition of any kind to God ; but God is supposed, through 
the medium of human instruments, to have embodied his 
thoughts in writing for the benefit of the human race. The 
result is the very important category of holy books. 



EXTERNAL MANIFESTATIONS OF RELIGIOUS 
SENTIMENT. 

FIRST PART. 

MEANS OF COMMUNICATION UPWARDS, 



CHAPTER I. 



CONSECRATED ACTIONS. 



Adoration, or worship, is a direct result of one of the most 
universal of human instincts. After the instincts which impel 
us to provide for the necessities of the body, and to satisfy the 
passion of love, there is perhaps none more potent or more 
general. Men are driven to pray by an irresistible impulse. 
Differing widely as to the object of worship; differing not less 
widely as to its mode; differing in a minor degree as to the 
blessings it secures; they are agreed as to the fundamental 
ideas which it involves. In the first place it presupposes a 
power superior to, or at any rate different from, the power of 
man; in the second place it assumes a belief that this super- 
human or non-human power can be approached by his worship- 
ers ; can be induced to listen to their desires, and to grant their 
petitions. 

Of the first of the two elements thus implied in prayer, this 
is not the appropriate place to speak at length. In a very early 
and primitive stage of man's existence, he begins to feel his 
dependence upon powers invisible to his mortal eyes, whose 
mode of action he can but imperfectly comprehend. His way 
of conceiving these beings will depend upon his mental eleva- 
tion, upon historical influences, upon local conditions, and other 

31 



32 CONSECRATED ACTIONS. 

causes. Among very rude nations, the commonest and appar- 
ently most unimpressive objects will serve as fetishes, or incar- 
nations of the mysterious force. Pieces of wood, stones, orna- 
ments worn on the person, or almost anything, may under 
some circumstances do duty in this capacity. It is a further 
stage of progress when the more conspicuous objects of nature, 
lofty mountains, rivers, trees, fountains, and so forth, are dei- 
fied, to the exclusion of more insignificant things. Still higher 
is the adoration of bodies which do not belong to this earth at 
all, and whose nature is, therefore, more mysterious — the sun, 
the moon, the planets or the stars, the clouds and tempests, 
the winds, and similar imposing phenomena. And this stage 
passes naturally into one where the gods, at first merely forces 
of nature personified, lose their character of forces, and become 
exclusively persons. They are then conceived as beings in hu- 
man form, but endowed with much more than human faculties. 
Actual persons, especially the ancestors of the living genera- 
tion, are also the frequent recipients of religious adoration. By 
other races, or by the same races at a later period, the numer- 
ous gods of polytheism are merged in one supreme god, to 
whom the others are subordinated as agents of his will, or 
before whose grandeur they disappear altogether; while this 
worship of powers conceived as beneficent is very frequently 
accompanied, more or less avowedly, by a parallel worship of 
powers conceived as malevolent, and whom, by reason of that 
very malevolence, it is occasionally deemed the more needful to 
conciliate. 

The second element — the conviction that these deities are 
accessible to human requests — is shown both by the fact of 
worship being offered and by the mode in which, it is conducted. 
In the first place, it is plain that prayer would not be offered 
at all but for the belief that it exercises some influence on the 
beings prayed to. But the theory does not require that they 
should be equally amenable to it at all times, from all persons, 
or in whatever way it is uttered. On the contrary, accessibility 
to prayer implies in these who receive it an inclination to listen 
with attention to the language in which they are addressed, 
and to be more or less moved by it according to its nature. 

Eeasoning from the authorities of earth whom he knows, to 



PRAYER. 33 

those of heaven whom he does not know, the primitive man 
concludes that the best way of obtaining the satisfaction of his 
wishes from the latter will be to address them in a tone of 
humble supplication, intermingled with such laudatory epithets 
as he deems most suitable to the deity invoked, or most likely 
to be agreeable to his ear. Hence we have the two devotional 
acts of prayer and praise, which in all religions constantly ac- 
company one another, and constitute the simplest, most nat- 
ural, and most ancient expression on the part of human beings 
of their consciousness of an overruling power, and of their 
desire to enter into relations with that dreaded and venerated 
agency. 

Prayer in its original form is simply a request for some per- 
sonal advantage addressed by the worshipers to their god. 
Whatever loftier associations it may afterwards acquire, its in- 
tention at the outset is unquestionably this, as may be proved 
by reference to innumerable instances, quoted by travelers or 
scholars, of savage prayer, where the benefit expected from the 
deity is demanded in the most barefaced manner. But even 
after men have long ceased to be savages, the primary object 
of prayer may easily be discerned; sometimes plainly avowed 
by the persons praying, sometimes cloaked under compliment- 
ary phrases or devotional utterances. However disguised, the 
fact remains, that prayer was originally designed, and to a 
large extent is designed still, to obtain certain advantages for 
ourselves, either as individuals, or as a community. Private 
prayer, partaking to some extent of the character of a medita- 
tion, may, and no doubt often does, form an exception to this 
rule; but even this very frequently falls under it, and of the 
prayer offered by tribes or nations it alwa3^s holds good. 

Two excellent specimens of primitive prayer are given by 
Brinton in his "Myths of the New World." According to that 
writer, the Nootka Indian, on preparing for war, thus expresses 
his wishes:— "Great Quahootzee, let me live, not be sick, find 
the enemy, not fear him, find him asleep, and kill a great 
many of him." 

The next instance, quoted by him from Father Breboeuf, is 
equally apposite. It is the prayer of a Huron:— "Oki, thou 
who livest in this spot", I offer thee tobacco. Help us, save us 



34 CONSECRATED ACTIONS. 

from shipwreck, defend us from our enemies, give us a good 
trade, and bring us back sMe and sound to our villages" (M. 
N. W., p. 297). 

The Kafirs, according to Shooter, address the "spirits" 
whom they worship in the following style: "Take care of me, 
take care of my children, take care of my wives, take care of 
all my people. Eemove the sickness, and let my child recover. 
Give me plenty of children — many boys and a few girls. Give 
me abundance of food and cattle. Make right all my people" 
(K. N., p. 163). 

Of the negroes on the Caribbean Islands, Oldendorp says, 
"Their concerns which they lay before God in their prayers, 
even on their knees, have reference only to the body, to health, 
fine weather, a good harvest, victory over their enemies, and 
so forth" (G. d. M., p. 325). 

The Samoans, on taking their evening " cup of ava," would 
thus express their petitions to the gods: "Here is ava for you, 
O gods! Look kindly towards this family: let it prosper and 
increase; and let us all be kept in health. Let our plantations 
be productive, let fruit grow, and may there be abundance of 
food for us, your creatures. Here is ava for you, our war-gods! 
Let there be a strong and numerous people for you in this 
land. Here is ava for you, O sailing gods! Do not come on 
shore at this place; but be pleased to depart along the ocean 
to some other land " (N. Y., p. 200). 

Mr. Turner, to whom I am indebted for the above prayer, 
remarks that in Tanna, another of the Polynesian islands, the 
chief of a village repeats a short prayer at the evening meal, 
"asking health, long life, good crops, and success in battle" 
(Ibid., p. 85). 

The authors of the Vedic hymns, though standing on a far 
higher level of civilization, do not differ essentially from these 
rude people in the character of the objects for which they pray. 
The several deities are continually invoked to grant health, 
wealth, prosperity, posterity, and other temporal blessings. 
Thus (to quote one instance among many) in Mandala 1, Sukta 
64, translated by Max Miiller, the Maruts are requested to grant 
" strength, glorious, invincible in battle, brilliant, wealth-con- 
ferring, praiseworthy, known to all men;" and again, "wealth, 



PEATER. 35 

durable, rich in men, defying all onslaughts; wealth a hundred 
and a thousandfold, always increasing " (E. V. S., i. 64, 14, 15, 
—Vol. 1. p. 93), The liturgies of the Zend-Avesta, while some- 
times assuming a loftier strain, frequently move upon the same 
level. The same tone is to be observed in the Hebrew Scrip- 
tures. Solomon's prayer, for instance, at the dedication of the 
temple, may be taken as an enumeration of the objects com- 
monly prayed for among the ancient Hebrews. It specifies 
among the objects to be obtained at the hands of Jehovah, the 
prevention of famine, of pestilence, blasting, mildew, locust or 
caterpillar, plague or sickness (1 Kings viii. 37). Christian lit- 
urgies contain the same universal elements, though intermin- 
gled with many others, and not in general put forward with the 
same crudity of language. 

Besides these general objects, there are others of an ephem- 
eral and special kind which are generally drawn within the 
sphere of prayer. Eain is a common object of prayer, and other 
changes of weather are equally prayed for if they are held to 
be important. Callaway, for example, was informed by a "very 
old man" in South Africa that "if it does not rain, the heads 
of villages and petty chiefs assemble and go to a black chief; 
they converse and pray for rain" (R. S. A., vol. i. p. 59). An- 
other native described the mode of supplication more particu- 
larly. A certain chieftain named Utshaka '* came and made his 
prayers greater than those who preceded him." When he de- 
sired rain, he sang the following song, which "consists of 
musical sounds merely, without any meaning:" — 

•" One Part — 1 ya wu; a wu; o ye i ye." 

" Second Fart or Besponse — I ya wo." 

And this prayer, so touching in its simplicity, was as success- 
ful as the most elaborate composition of Jewish prophet or 
Christian bishop; for the narrator states that Utshaka "Sang a 
song and prayed to the Lord of heaven; and asked his fore- 
fathers to pray for rain to the Lord of heaven. And it rained'' 
(E. S. A., vol. i. p. 92). The efficacy of prayer is plainly inde- 
pendent of the creed of him who offers it. 

The Mexicans held an important annual festival in the month 
of May, of which the main purpose was to entreat for water 
from the sky, this being the season at which there was the 



36 CONSECRATED ACTIONS. 

greatest need of rain (H. I., b. v. ch. 28). They used to address 
an elaborate prayer to a god named Tlaloc, the king of the ter- 
restral paradise, to obtain deliverance from drought. They en- 
treated him not to visit the offenses they had committed with 
such severity as to continue the privation under which they 
were laboring.* The Tannese, when put to much inconvenience 
by the dust falling from a certain volcano, "were in the habit 
of praying to their gods for a change of wind" (N. Y., p. 75). 
Certain other South Sea Islanders used to pray to their gods to 
avert the supposed calamity of a lunar eclipse. "As the eclipse 
passes off, they think it is all owing to their prayers," a mode 
of reasoning which presents an exact parallel to that employed 
by many Christians. 

Sir John Davis gives a very interesting specimen of a prayer 
for rain employed by Taou-Kuang, the Emperor of China, in 
1832, on the occasion of a long drought in that country (Chinese, 
vol. ii. p. 75). As may be expected from so civilized a people, 
this prayer rises far above the outspoken begging of savage 
petitions, yet it has in substance precisely the same end. The 
emperor describes himself- as "scorched with grief," and pathet- 
ically inquires whether he has been remiss in sacrifice, has been 
proud or prodigal, irreverent, unjust, or wanting in discretion in 
the exercise of patronage. Here we see the intrusion of the 
theological idea that calamities are sent as punishments for sin, 
which plays no small part in Christian theology; but this only 
serves to veil, without effacing, the essential cnaracter of the 
prayer. The very same notion, that sin is visited by unfavor- 
able weather, is found in the prayer of Solomon, whose mipd 
upon this question seems to have been in the same stage of 
thought as that attained by the Chinese emperor. "When 
heaven is shut up, and there is no rain, because they have sin- 
ned against thee" (i Kings viii. 35), is the language of Solo- 
mon: "My sins are so numerous that it is hopeless to escape 
their consequences," so runs the penitent confession of Taou- 
Kuang. But whatever • may be the cause to which the drought 
is attributed, the prayer, whether uttered by Chinaman, Jew, or 

* This prayer, which is too long to quote, may be found in Aglio. A. M.. v, 
372, and in Sahagun, C. N. E.. book vi. chap. 8. According to Sahagun, it con- 
tains *' muy delicada materia." 



PRAYER. 37 

Christian, is still simply the petition to the' Amazulu, the South 
Sea Islander, or the native American — a request that God will 
so influence the phenomena of the skies as to suit our conven- 
ience. The notion that this object may sometimes be attained 
by our prayers is not extinct even among ourselves. 

Other special occasions are sometimes held to call for prayer. 
Such are national calamities; as a pestilence among men or 
cattle, the illness of some eminent person, and other similar 
misfortunes. A good harvest is very generally prayed for ; so is 
victory in time of war. The ancient Aryans, who composed the 
Vedic hymns one thousand years or more before Christ, contin- 
ually prayed for this last blessing; and we ourselves, when 
engaged in warfare, piously continue the same custom. 

Very frequently the notion of a bargain between the god and 
his worshiper appears in prayer. The worshiper claims to have 
rendered some service for which the god ought in equity to 
reward him; or he holds out the discontinuance of his former 
devotion as a motive to induce the concession of his desires. 
The constant conjunction of praise with prayer is explicable on 
this principle of a reciprocity of benefits. If the worshiper 
gains much from the god, yet the god gains something from 
him, being addressed in a strain of unbounded eulogy. His 
power, his greatness, his goodness, his excellences of all kinds 
are vaunted in glowing terms, no doubt sincerely used by the 
worshiper, but repeated and accumulated to satiety from an 
impression that they are pleasing to their object, and may dis- 
pose him to beneficence. Titles thus bestowed upon their deities 
are aptly described by the Amazulus as "laud-giving names'* 
(R. S. A., vol. i. p. 72, and vol. ii. p. 149). In the Vedic hymns 
and in the Psalms, the deities spoken of are constantly ad- 
dressed by such complimentary epithets. One of the hymns to 
the Maruts begins by announcing the poet's intention to praise 
"their ancient greatness." And at the conclusion, after he has 
done so, he says, "May this praise, O Maruts, . . . ai)proach 
you (asking) for offspring to our body, together with food. May 
we find food, and a camp with running water (R. V. S., vol. i. 
pp. 197, 201). The Psalmists were never weary of exalting the 
extraordinary might and majesty of Jehovah, mingling petitions 
with panegyric ; and a large portion of the worship of Christians 



38 CONSECRATED ACTIONS. 

* 

consists in expressions of pious admiration at the extraordinary- 
goodness of tlieir God, especially for his redemption of the 
world which he had himself condemned. All these extravagant 
eulogies betray a latent impression that the Deit,y is, after all, 
a very arbitrary personage, and may be moved to more merci- 
ful conduct than he would otherwise pursue by large doses of 
flattery. 

Still more clearly does the idea of a commercial relationship 
with the gods make its appearance in a poet who stands on a 
higher intellectual and moral level than the writers of the He- 
brew Psalms, namely Aischylos. In the Seven against Thebes, 
Eteokles implores Zeus, the Earth, and the tutelar deities of 
the city to protect Thebes ; and subjoins as a motive for com- 
pliance, "And I trust that what I say is our common interest; 
for a prosperous city honors the. gods " (Aisch. Sept. c. Th. 76, 
77 — Dindorf). And there is a similar appeal to the divine sel- 
fishness further on in the same play, where the chorus inquires 
of the gods what better plain, they can expect to obtain in ex- 
change for this one, if they shall suffer it to pass into the ene- 
my's hands (Aisch., Sept. c. Th. 304). 

In the Choephoras, Zeus is distinctly asked in the prayer of 
Agamemnon's children whence he can expect to obtain the sac- 
rifice and honors which have been paid him by Orestes and 
Electra if he should suffer them to perish (Aisch., Choeph., 255). 
While in the Electra of Sophocles the converse motive of grat- 
itude is appealed to: the god Apollon being desired to remem- 
ber not what he may get, but what he already has got, from 
the piety of his supplicant (Soph. El., 1376 — Schneide win). And 
Jacob, who was a good hand at a bargain, makes his terms 
with Jehovah in a thoroughly business-like spirit. " If God 
will be with me, and will keep me in this way that I go, and 
will give me bread to eat and raiment to put on, so that I come 
again to my father's house in peace; then shall the Lord be 
my God: and this stone, which I have set up for a pillar, shall 
be God's house : and of all that thou shalt give me I will surely 
give the tenth unto thee." The adoption of Jehovah as Jacob's 
God being thus entirely dependent on the performance by that 
Deity of his share in the contract " (Gen. xxviii. 20-22). 

Sometimes it is quaintly suggested that were the worshiper 



SACEIFICE. 39 

in the place of the god, he would not neglect the interests of 
his devotee. Thus, the author of a hymn hi the Eig-Veda-San- 
hita, addressing the Gods of Tempest, exclaims: "If you, sons 
ot Prisni, were mortals, and your worshiper an immortal, then 
never should your praiser be unwelcome, like a deer in pasture 
grass, nor should he go on the path of Yama "' (E. V. S., vol. 
i. p. 65). Another unsophisticated poet gives the following hint 
to the god Indra, the Hindu Jupiter: ''Were I, Indra, like 
thee, the sole lord of wealth, the singer of my praises should 
be rich in cattle" (S. V., i. 2. i. 3. p. 218). And the same god 
is asked elsewhere in the Veda: *' When wilt thou make us 
happy? for it is just this that is desired" (S. V., i. 5. i. 3. p 
233). With equal plainness is the expectation of a quid pro quo 
enunciated in one of the most ancient hymns, contained in the 
sacred books of the Parsees : — " Every adoration, O True One 
consists in actions whereby one may obtain good possessions, 
full of security, and happiness round about" (F. G. vol. ii. p. 
54. —Yama 51. i). 

More emphatically still is this conception of a reciprocity of 
benefits expressed in another consecrated action, that of Sacri- 
fice. Sacrifice holds a most important place in all religions. 
It originates in a stage of the human mind which, if not quite 
as primitive as that which gives rise to prayer, is neverthe- 
less so early as to be practicably inseparable from it. Wherever' 
we find prayer, we find sacrifice ; but as the latter is generally 
found organized under definite forms, and confined to certain 
specified objects, we may conclude that in the state in which 
'we recognize it, it implies a certain degree of regulation and 
forethought on the part of religious authorities which we do 
not meet with in the simplest types of prayer. Prayer is often 
the mere natural outpouring of our wants before a power which 
is considered capable of fulfilling them: sacrifice, though doubt- 
less in the first instance an equally artless offering of gifts to 
beings who are regarded with veneration and gratitude, is soon 
converted into a formal presentation of acknowledged dues, 
performed under ecclesiastical supervision. No doubt prayer 
also tends to assume this formal character; but we have hith- 
erto considered it in its uncorrupted aspect; its treatment in 
its later developments belongs to another portion of this chapter. 



40 CONSECRATED ACTIONS. 

The idea which presides over sacrifice is obvious. The sac- 
riflcer argaes that if he can make acceptable presents to the 
gods, they will smile upon him and be disposed to promote his 
ends; whereas if he keeps the whole of his possessions for 
worldly purposes, they will regard him with indignation, and 
refuse him their assistance when he may happen to stand in 
need of it. There is also involved in sacrifice a sense of grati- 
tude: the gods having given us the fruits of the earth, it be 
hooves us to make some acknowledgment of their bounty. 

Such notions, once propounded, were certain to be fertile 
Every motive of piety and of interest would combine to support 
them. The piety of the worshipers, coupled with their hopes 
of advantage, would be stimulated by the self-interest of the 
priests, who generally share in the sacrifices offered. If any 
piece of good fortune occurred to one who was devout and lib- 
eral in sacrificing, it would be attributed to the satisfaction felt 
by, the gods at his exemplary conduct. If ill fortune befell 
those who had neglected to sacrifice, this would be an equally 
manifest indication of their high displeasure. As soon, there- 
fore, as the step was taken — and it was one of the earliest in 
the religious history of man— of instituting sacrifices to idols 
or to deities, the worshipers vied with one another in the liber- 
ality of their offerings. Adopted as a mode of propitiating the 
celestial beings by spontaneous gifts, it became, among all 
nations whose religious belief had arrived at a state of flexity 
and consolidation, a positive duty; much as monarchs have 
frequently exacted large and burdensome contributions under 
the guise of voluntary presents. 

Illustrations of this conception, that sacrifice is a sort of 
payment for services rendered or to be rendered, might be found 
abundantly in many quarters. Perhaps it is seldom more 
quaintly expressed than by the Amazulus, who, when going to 
battle, sacrifice to the Amatongo, or manes of their ancestors, 
in order that these, in their own language, " may have no cause 
of complaint, because they have made amends to them, and 
made them bright." On reaching the enemy, they say, *'Can 
it be, since we have made amends to the Amadhlozi, that they 
will say we have wronged them by anything?" And when it 
comes to fighting, they are filled with valor, observing that 



SACRIFICE. 41 

*'the Amatongo will turn their backs on ns without cause" (K. 
S. A., vol. ii. p. 133). 

The objects of sacrifice are very various, but it is noticeable 
that they are almost invariably things held in esteem among 
men, and either possessing a considerable value as commodities, 
or capable by their properties of ministering to their pleasure. 
All sacrifices of meat and corn or other edibles belong to the 
former class; those of flowers to the latter, for these, though 
of little value in the market yet give great pleasure, and are 
much esteemed. An' exception is indeed presented by the wild 
hordes in Kamtschatka, who, according te Steller, offer nothing 
to their gods but what is valueless to themselves (Kamtschatka, 
p. 265). If this statement does not originate in a misunderstand- 
ing of the traveler, the fact must be due to the singularly low 
religiosity of those people, who seem to have little reverence 
for the very objects of their worship. 

The most valuable sacrifice that can possibly be made— 
that of human beings — has always been common among sav- 
age or uncivilized nations. Thus, in some of the South Sea 
Islands, human sacrifices were " fearfully common " (N. M. E., 
p. 547). They prevailed among some of the negro tribes known 
to the missionary Oldendorp (G. d. M., p. 329). 

In Mexico, where the natives, had arrived at a far higher 
condition, human sacrifices still prevailed, though the original 
brutality of the rite was modified by the fact of the victims 
being enemies. Indeed, Montezuma, when at the height of his 
power, expressly refused to conquer a certain province which 
he might easily have added to his dominions ; assigning as his 
first reason, that he desired to keep the Mexican youth in prac- 
tice ; as his second and principal one, that he might reserve a 
province for the supply of victims to sacrifice to the gods (H. T., 
b. V. ch. 20). 

At the great Mexican festival of the Jubilee, however, it was 
not an enemy, but a slave, who was offered. This slave had 
represented the idol during the period of a year, and had 
received the greatest honor during his term of office, at the 
end of which his head was severed from his body by the priest, 
who then held it as high as he could, and showed it to the Sun 
and to the idol (H. I., b. v. ch. 28). 



42 CONSECEATED ACTIONS. 

Next in value to the human race are cattle, and these too 
are frequently immolated in honor of the gods. Thus among 
the Kafirs, "the animals offered are exclusively cattle and 
goats. The largest ox in a herd is specially reserved for sacri- 
fices on important occasions; it is called the Ox of the Spirits, 
and is never sold except in cases of extreme necessity " (Kafirs. 
p. 165). Here we find it expressly stated that it is the best ox. 
in other words, the most valuable portion of the sacrificer's 
property, which is devoted to the gods. And the principle 
which leads in Natal to this reservation of the best will be 
found predominating over sacrifice throughout the world. The 
Soosoos, a people inhabiting the west coast of Africa, are so 
careful to propitiate their deity, that they "never undertake 
any affair of importance until they have sacrificed to him a bul- 
lock" (N. A., vol. i. p. 230). 

Other domestic and edible animals, being of great import- 
ance to mankind, are held worthy of the honor of sacrifice. 
The same writer to whom I owe the last quotation tells us of 
the Western Africans, that "before they begin to sow their 
plantations, they sacrifice a sheep, goat, fowl, or fish to the 
ay-min, to beg that their crop may abound; for were this 
neglected, they are persuaded that nothing would grow there " 
(Ibid., vol. i. p. 223). Oldendorp, who was particularly familiar 
with the Caribbean Islands, describes the sacrifices of the 
negroes as consisting of "oxen, cows, sheep, goats, hens, palm- 
oil, brandy, yams, &c" (G. d. M., p. 329). 

Besides porcelain collars, tobacco, maize, and skins, the 
American Indians used to offer "entire animals, especially 
dogs, on the borders of difficult or dangerous roads or rocks, or 
by the side of rapids." These offerings were made to the 
spirits who presided in these places. The great value attached 
by the natives of America to the dog is well known, and it is 
deserving of remark that the dog was the commonest victim, 
and that at the war-festival, which was a sort of sacrifice, it 
was always dogs that were offered. 

In China, the animals slain are " bullocks, heifers, sheep, and 
pigs," which are duly purified for a certain period beforehand 
(0. O., vol. ii. p. 192). Among the Jews, pigs, whose flesh was 
regarded as impure,- were not offered; bullocks, goats, and 



SACEIFICE. 43 

sheep were the chief sacrificial animals; and extreme care was 
taken in their law that they should be entirely without blem- 
ish; that is, that, like the ox of the Kafirs, they should be the 
best obtainable (Lev. xxii. 17-25). This is a remarkable illustra 
tion of the tendency to ofi'er only articles of value in human 
estimation to God ; for here that which would be good enough 
for men is treated as unfit for Jehovah. Animals of lesser 
magnitude are sometimes offered ; as, for instance, the quails 
which the Mexicans used to sacrifice (H. I., b. v. ch. 18). Birds 
are not unfiequently chosen as fitting objects to present to the 
gods. Among the Ibos, a negro tribe, it is the custom for 
women, six weeks after child-birth, to present a pair of hens as 
an offering, which, however, are not killed, but liberated after 
certain ceremonies. In like manner the Hebrew woman after 
her delivery was enjoined to bring a lamb and a pigeon or tur- 
tle-dove; or, if she were unable to bring the lamb, two young- 
pigeons or two turtle-doves (Lev. xii. 6-8). In addition to ani- 
mals, a considerable variety of objects is sacrificed, generally 
the fruits of the earth or flowers. There is, however, no limit 
to the number of things which may be held suitable for present- 
ation to the gods. Thus, in Samoa (in Polynesia), the offerings 
were principally cooked food " (N. Y. p. 241). In other Islands 
" the first fruits are presented to the gods " (Ibid., p. 327), a 
practice which corresponds, as the missionary who records it 
justly remarks, to that of the ancient Israelites. The Ked 
Indians used to offer to their spirits "petun, tobacco, or birds." 
In honor of the Sun, and even of subordinate spirits, they 
would throw into the fire everything they were in the habit of 
usiDg, and which they acknowledged as received from them 
(N. F., vol. iii. pp. 347, 348). Acosta divides the sacrifices of the 
Mexicans and Peruvians into three classes: the first, of inani- 
mate objects; the second, of animals; the third, of men. In 
the first class are included cocoa, maize, colored feathers, sea- 
shells, gold and silver, and fine linen (H. I., b. v. ch. 18). 
Among the sacrifices offered by the Incas to the sun, the most 
esteemed, according to Garcilasso de la Vega, were lambs, then 
sheep, then barren ewes. Besides these, they sacrificed tame 
rabbits, all edible birds (remark the limitation), and fat of 
beasts, as well as all the grains and vegetables up to cocoa, and 



44 CONSECEATED ACTIONS. 

the finest linen (observe again the care that it should be fine 
(C. K., b. ii. ch. 8). At a certain Hindu festival described by 
Wilson, a goddess named Varada Chaturthi '*is worshipped 
with offerings of flowers, of incense, or of lights, with platters 
of sugar and ginger, or milk or salt, with scarlet or saffron- 
tinted strings and golden bracelets" (W. W., vol. ii. pp. 184, 185). 
Among the Parsees the sacrifices consist of. little loaves of 
bread, and of Haoma, the sacred plant. The Indian Parsees 
send from time to time to Kirman to obtain Haoma-branches 
from this holy territory (Z. A., vol. ii. p. 535). The Parsees also 
offer flowers, fruits, rice, odoriferous grains, perfumes, milk, 
roots of certain trees, and meat. The Jews, like them, offered 
the productions of the soil in sacrifice. 

Beauty, and even utility, when not accompanied by consid- 
erable value in exchange, do not suffice to constitute fitness for 
religious sacrifice. Common plants and shrubs, branches of 
trees, wild birds or insects, are some of them among the most 
beautiful productions of nature; yet they are not sacrificed. 
Stones and wood are both useful, but they are obtained, as a 
rule, at little cost; and they are not sacrificed. Flowers, which 
certainly have no high value, were sometimes offered to idols 
in the form of wreaths and garlands : they scarcely constitute 
an exception to the rule, for they are prized as ornaments by 
men, and the process of plucking and weaving them into appro- 
priate shapes imposes trouble — the equivalent of cost — on the 
devotee. It is plainly not owing to any accidental circumstance 
that higlily valuable objects have been selected by all the 
nations of the earth as alone appropriate for religious sacrifice. 
Two reasons may be assigned for this selection. In the first 
place, the general assimilation of deities to mankind goes far 
to account for it. Everywhere, and at all times — as we shall 
have occasion frequently to observe in this work — men have 
reasoned as to the diyine nature from their knowledge of their 
own. A noteworthy instance of this is to be seen in Malachi, 
who does not scruple to tell the Jews that their God feels the 
same kind of offense at the poverty of their offerings as a 
human governor would do. "And if," says that prophet, '*ye 
offer the blind for sacrifice, is it not evil ? and if ye offer the 
lame and sick, is it not evil? offer it now unto thy governor; 



SACBIFICE. 45 

will he be pleased with thee, or accept thy person ? saith the 
Lord of hosts." A few verses later he recurs to the sorrow felt 
by Jehovah at such insults. *' And ye bring that which is 
robbed, and the lame, and the sick ; thus ye bring an offering : 
should I accept this of your hand ? saith the Lord. But cursed 
be the deceiver, which hath in his flock a male, and voweth 
and sacrificeth unto the Lord a bad female." It would be'dlffi- 
cult to find the theory of God's resemblance to man expressed 
in a cruder form. Even as a governor will show the greatest 
favor to those who approach him with the costliest gifts, so the 
mouthpiece of the Hebrew deity declares in his name that he 
must have the pick of his servant's flocks — the males, not the 
females, the sound and the perfect, not the sickly or the 
maimed. In a precisely similar spirit, it is enjoined in one of 
the sacred books of the Buddhists that no spoilt victuals or 
drinks may be used in sacrifice (Wassiljew, p. 211). 

Men's notion of their god was often derived, like Malachi's, 
not only from human nature, but from those who were by no 
means the best specimens of human nature,— the rulers. The 
religious emotion, imbued with this conception of its deities, 
shrank through a sense of piety from the irreverent, and, as it 
seemed, sacrilegious act of presenting them with anything but 
the best. But there was another reason which, doubtless, had 
its weight. Not only must the offering be of a kind acceptable 
to the god to whom it was given ; it must also impose some 
cost upon the worshiper. Eeligious sentiment imperatively re- 
quired that there should be an actual sacrifice of something 
which the owner valued, and the surrender of which imposed a 
burden upon him. This seemed to be involved in the very 
notion of sacrifice. Its sense and purpose was, that the devo- 
tee, coming to his god, and desiring to obtain some favor from 
him, should show the high importance he attached to it by 
parting with some portion of his possessions. And plainly this 
portion must be such as to indicate by its character the esteem 
and reverence felt by the worshiper for the being whom he 
worshiped. To indicate this, it must be something which he 
would unwillingly resign but for his religious feelings. Hence 
a special part of the fruits of the soil would be an appropriate 
offering. It would involve a real diminution in the wealth of 



46 • CONSECBATED ACTIONS. 

the worshiper, a real surrehrier of something useful and valu- 
able to mankind. To these two reasons may be added a third, 
which, no doubt, must have had its weight. In many cases, a 
portion of the sacrifices was the property of the priests. As 
will be more fully shown hereafter; the priesthood frequently 
contrived to transfer to themselves the piety which was felt 
towards the gods. Hence the sacrifices, originally given to the 
divine beings, were in part appropriated by their ministers; 
and it was obviously of importance to them that the thing sac- 
rificed should be such as they could profit by and enjoy. 

It sometimes happens that the sacrifice, or a portion of it, is 
consumed either by the worshipers in general, or by their 
priests. A case of the former kind is mentioned by Oldendorp, 
When the young men among the Tembus (negroes) are going 
to battle, the old men offer sheep and hens to their god Zioo 
for their success; the blood and bowels i hey bestow upon Zioo, 
and the flesh they eat themselves (G. d. M., p. 330). Sometimes 
the thing sacrificed is itself regarded as an idol or god, and is 
eaten religiously, under a belief that it is a food of peculiar 
efficacy. Such is the case with the Christian sacrament; and 
such was the case, too, with the remarkable custom observed 
among the Mexicans at the feast of Vitziliputzli, where an idol 
composed of corn and honey used to be solemnly consecrated, 
and afterwards distributed to be eaten by the people, who re- 
ceived it with extreme reverence, awe, and tears, as the flesh 
and bones of the god himself (H. I., b. v. ch. 24). It is an ex- 
ception, however, when the laity partake in the consumption of 
the sacrifices; they are generally reserved for the priests. 
Among the Jews, it was the privilege of the priests to eat cer- 
tain portions of the animals brought for sacrifice; and in like 
manner the Parsee priest, or Zaota, eats the bread and drinks 
the Haoma (Av., vol. ii. p. Ixxii). And it deserves especial men- 
tion, that the Haoma, a plant of which the juice is thus drunk 
in certain rites both in the Indian and the Parsee religions, is 
in both considered a god as well as a plant; just as the wine of 
the Christian sacrament is both the juice of the grape and the 
blood of the Kedeemer (Av., vol. i. p. 8). 

In the above cases, food consecrated to the gods is eaten by 
men. The converse practice, that of bestowing a portion of the 



SACRIFICE. 47 

ordinary food of men upon the gods, is also common. The 
habit of the ancients of making libations is well known. But 
the same practice has prevailed, or prevails still, in many dis- 
tinct parts of the world. A traveler wha visited Tartary in the 
thirteenth century states that it was the custom of the Tartar 
chiefs of one thousand or one hundred men, before they ate or 
drank anything, to offer some of it to an idol which they always 
kept in the middle of their dwelling place (Bergeron, Voyage 
de Carpin, art. iii., p. 30). In Samoa, when a family feast was 
held in honor of the household gods, ''a cup of their intoxi- 
jating ava draught was poured out as a drink-offering" (N. Y., 
p. 239). Among the Soosoos, on the west coast of Africa, a cus- 
tom prevails "which resembles the ancient practice of pouring 
out a libation : they seldom or never drink spirits, wine, etc., 
v/ithout spilling a little of it upon the ground, and wetting the 
gree-gree or fetish hung round the neck: at the same time they 
mutter a kind of short prayer" (N. A., p. 123). Again, in Sierra 
Leone, "when they want to render their devil propitious to any 
undertaking, they generally provide liquor: a very small liba- 
tion is made to him, and the rest they drink before his altar" 
(S. L., p. 66). While in Thibet, "the execution by a Lama is 
not required for the usual libations to the personal genii, nor to 
those of the house, the country, etc., in whose honor it is the 
custom to pour out upon the ground some drink or food, and 
to fill one of the offering vessels ranged before their images 
before eating or drinking one's self" (B. T., p. 247). . 

Great importance is in all religions attached to sacrifice. It 
is universally supposed to conciliate, to soften, or to appease the 
deity in whose honor it is offered. Sometimes it is even con- 
ceived to have an actual material power of its own, the spirits 
deriving a positive benefit from the food presented to them. 
Spiegel states that the subordinate genii in the Parsee hierarchy 
of angels derive from the sacrifices strength and vigor to fulfil 
their duties (Av., vol. ii. p. Ixiii). Generally, however, the con- 
ception of the influence of sacrifice is less materialistic. The 
Amazulus naively express the general sentiment by saying, that, 
in prospect of a battle, they sacrifice to their ancestors in order 
that they "may have no cause of complaint." Much more 
mystical were the views entertained on this point by the ancient 



48 CONSECEATED ACTIONS. 

Hindus, among whom the theory of sacrifice was probably more 
highly elaborated than in any other nation. Of a certain sacri- 
ficial ceremony it is stated, that the gods, after having per- 
formed it, "gained thft celestial world. Likewise a sacrificer, 
after having done the same, gains the celestial world " (A. B. 
vol. ii. p. 22). And it is added, that the sacrificer who performs 
this rite ''succeeds- in both worlds, and obtains a firm footing 
in both worlds " (A. B., vol. ii. p. 25). While to another rite the 
following promise is attached: "He who, knowing this, sacri- 
fices according to this rite, is born (anew) from the womb of 
Agni and the offerings, and participates in the nature of the 
Eik, Yajus, and Saman, the Veda (sacred knowledge), the Brah- 
ma (sacred element), and immortality, and is absorbed in the 
deity " (A. B., vol. ii. p. 51). Often it is the forgiveness of some 
offense that is sought to be obtained by pacifying the indignant 
deity with a gift. In the Jewish law a large portion of the sac- 
rifices enjoined have this object. They are termed sin-offerings 
or trespass- offerings. 

The general idea which leads to sacrifice is in all religions 
the same. Respect is intended to be shown to the deity in 
whose honor the sacrifice is made by depriving ourselves of 
some valuable possession, and bestowing it on him. The pleas- 
ure supposed to be felt by God on receiving such presents is 
somewhat coarsely but emphatically expressed in the Hebrew 
Bible by the statement that when Aaron had made a sacrifice 
in the wilderness there came a fire from the Lord and consumed 
the meat which had been laid upon the altar (Lev. ix. 24). 

Christianity offers only an apparent exception to the rule of 
the universal predominance of this idea. We do not, indeed, 
find among Christians the periodical and stated offerings, either 
of animals or of the products of the soil, which exist elsewhere. 
Nevertheless, the idea of sacrifice subsists among them in all 
its force. Indeed, it is the fundamental conception of the Chris- 
tian religion itself, in which the sacrifice of the founder upon 
the cross embodies all those notions which are held to legiti- 
mate the custom of sacrificing among heathen nations. We 
have first the notion of an angry and exacting deity, who can 
only be rendered placable towards mankind by the surrender to 
him of some valuable thing; we have, consequently, the sacri- 



RITUAL. 49 

flee of the most valuable thing that can possibly be offered, 
namely, the life of a human being; we have, lastly, the belief 
that this sacrifice was accepted, and that promises of mercy were 
in consequence held out to the human race. By a peculiar ex- 
altation of the idea, the life thus given up is declared to be that 
of his own son— a conception by which the value of the sacri- 
fice, and consequently the advantages it is capable of procur- 
ing, are indefinitely heightened. 

Thus the idea of sacrifice is carried to its extreme limits in 
the religion of Christendom. Had it not been for the absolute 
necessity of some sacrifice being offered to God, there would — 
according to the theory of the Christian faith — have been abso- 
lutely no reason for the execution of Christ. He might have 
taught every doctrine associated with his name, perioimed every 
miracle related in the Gospels, have drawn to himself every dis- 
ciple named in them, and yet have died, like the Buddha, in 
the calm of a venerated and untroubled old age. He was 
obliged to undergo this painful and melancholy death, if we 
accept the general belief of Christendom, solely because God 
required a sacrifice, and because without that sacrifice he could 
not forgive the offenses of mankind. 

Simple prayer and saciifice are, then, the most primitive and 
most general methods by which man approaches those whom 
his nature impels him to worship. .'But as these acts are re- 
peated from time to time, and as their frequent repetition is 
suppose to be highly agreeable to their objects, it naturally hap- 
pens that some particular mode of performing them comes to 
be preferred to others. By and by, the mode of worship usually 
adopted will become habitual ; and a habit once formed will be 
strengthened by every repetition of the acts in question. Not 
only will certain forms of prayer, certain ways of sacrificing, cer- 
tain postures, certa'n gestures, and a certain order of proceeding 
become established as usual and regular, but they will be regard- 
ed as the only appropriate and respectful forms, every attempt 
to depart from them being treated as a sacrilegious innovation. 
The form will be deemed no less essential than the substance. 

Hence Kitual, which we do not find in the most primitive 
religions, but which is discovered in all of those that have 
advanced to a higher type. Even in the earliest Yedic hymns 



50 CONSECEATED ACTIONS. 

— those of the Eig-Veda-Sanhita — we perceive clear traces of 
an established ritual from the manner in which the sacrifices 
are spoken of as having been duly offered. In the Zend-Avesta, 
elaborate ritualistic directions are given for certain specified 
purposes, especially for that of purification after any defilemeiit. 
The oldest books of the Jewish Bible are in like manner fall of 
instructions for the due observance of ritual. Both the Budd- 
hists, who broke off from Brahminism, and the Christians, who 
made a schism from Judaism, established a ritual of their own; 
and this ritual was soon regarded as no less sacred than that 
which they had abandoned. Everywhere, when religion has 
passed out of its first unsettled condition, we find a fixed ritual, 
aud its fixity is one of its most striking features. Dogmas, in 
spite of the efforts of sacerdotal orders, inevitably change. If 
the words in which they are expressed remain unaltered, 3^et 
the meaning attached to them continually varies. But ritual 
does not change, or changes only when some great convulsion 
uproots the settled institutions of the country. From age to 
age the same forms and the same prayers remain, sometimes 
long after their original meaning has been forgotten. 

Thus prayer, ceasing to be spontaneous and irregular, be- 
comes formal, ceremonial, and regular. And as there are many 
occasions besides sacrifice on which men desire to pray, so there 
will be many besides this on which the craving for order, and 
the readiness to believe that God is better pleased with one 
form of devotion than anotlier, will lead to the establishment 
of ritual. 

Kites may be performed daily, weekly, or at any other inter- 
val. Sometimes, indeed, they are still more frequent, haunting 
the every-day life of the devotee, and intruding upon his com- 
monest actions. Thus the Parsees are required to repeat certain 
prayers on rising, before and after eating, on going to bed, on 
cutting their nails or their hair, and on several other natural 
occasions, besides praying to the sun three times a day (Z. A., 
vol. ii. p. 564-567). The Jews are encompassed with obligations 
which, if less minute, are of a like burdensome character. A 
devout Jew has to repeat a certain prayer on rising; he has to 
wear garments of a particular kind, and to wash and dress in a 
particular order (Rel. of Jews, p. 1-8). Mussulmans are com- 



EITUAL. 51 

manded to pray five times a day, turning their faces towards 
IMecca (Sale, prel. discourse, pp. 76, 77). 

Eitual, however, is not always of this purely personal nature, 
but is generally performed by a congregation to whose needs 
it refers, or by priests on their behalf. And in this case, again, 
a longer or shorter interval may elapse between the recurrence 
of the rites. In the Mexican temples, for instance, the minis- 
tering priests were in the habit of performing a service before 
their idols four times a day (H. I., b. v. ch. p. 14). *' The per- 
petual exercise of the priests," says Acosta, speaking of these 
temples, "is to offer incense to the idols." The ritual of the 
Catholic Church, like that of the ancient Mexicans, is repeated 
every day. The morning and evening services of the Church of 
England were framed with the same intention; and the Eitual- 
istic clergy, rightly conceiving the teaching of their Church, 
have introduced the practice of so employing them. Weekly or 
bi-monthly observances prevail among Hindus, Singhalese, 
Jews, and Christians. With the Hindus, the seventh lunar day, 
both during the fortnight of the moon's waxing and during that 
of her waning, is a festival, the first seventh day in the month 
being peculiarly holy, and observed with very special rites. 
More than this, the weekly period is known to them ; for, 
according to Wilson, " a sort of sanctity is, or was, attached 
even to Sunday, and fasting on it was considered obligatory or 
meritorious" (W. W., vol. ii. p. 199). In Ceylon the people 
attend divine service twice a week, on Wednesdays and Satur- 
days ; besides which, there are in each month four days devoted 
to religious acts — the 8th, 15th, 23d, and 30th (A. I. C, pp. 222, 
223; H. E. C, p. 76). The Jewish ritual differs on the Sabbath- 
day from that used on week-days; and such is the solemnity 
attached to this festival, that a quasi-personality is attributed 
to the day itself, which is exalted in the service for Friday 
evening as the bride of God, and which the congregation is in- 
vited to go in quest of, and to meet (Eel. of Jews, p. 128). A 
similar sanctity is considered by many Christians to pertain to 
the Sunday, while all of them observe it as an important festival, 
and mark it by peculiar rites. Friday, too, is regarded by the 
majority of Christians as a day to be observed with distinctive 
rites, of which fasting is the principal. 



52 CONSECRATED ACTIONS. 

When the interval ob erved between the performance of 
certain rites exceeds some very short period — as a day or week 
— it is generally a year. In this case, the time, whether it be 
a month, a week, a few days, or any other period, set apart for 
their performance assumes the character of a Festival. Under 
the general term Festival I include any annually recurrent 
season, whether it be one of mourning or rejoicing, of fasting 
or feasting, which is consecrated by the observance of special 
ceremonies of a religious order. In all religions above the low- 
est stage such festivals occur. The time of their occurrence is 
generally marked out by the seasons of the year. Mid-winter, 
or the season of sowing; spring, or the time when the seed is 
in the ground or beginning to spring up; and autumn, when 
the harvest has been gathered in, — are the most natural sea- 
sons for festivals; and it is at these that they usually take 
place. For instance, Oldendorp states that nearly all the Guinea 
nations have an annual harvest-festival, at which solemn thank- 
offerings are presented to the Gods (G. d. M., p. 332). In China, 
this reference to the seasons is obvious. "At every new moon, 
and the change of the season, there are festivals." Of these, 
"the most imposing" is "the emperor's plowing the sacred 
field. This takes place when the sun enters the fifteenth degree 
of Aquarius." But the precise day is determined by astrologers. 
This is the winter festival, or that of sowing. The "Leih-chun, 
at the commencement of the spring, continues for ten days." 
And in autumn the feast of harvest is celebrated with great 
merriment (C. O., vol. ii. p. 195-199). The Parsees have numer- 
ous festivals, which it would be tedious to enumerate in detail 
(Z. A., vol. ii. p. 574-581.) After the Gahanbars, which refer to 
creation, the two principal ones are the No rouz and the Me- 
herdjan, and of these Anquetil du Perron expressly states that 
the first ' originally corresponded to spring, and the second to 
Autumn (Ibid., vol. ii. p. 603). Of the Hindu festivals described 
by Wilson, by far the greatest are the Pongol, at the beginning 
of the year, and the Holi, in the middle of March (W. W., vol. 
ii. p. 151). Compared with these, the rest are insignificant; and 
these plainly refer to the processes of nature. That the great 
festivals of the Jews had the same reference, needs no proof; 
for the passover took place in spring, and the feast of Pente- 



KITES AT FESTIVALS. 63 

cost, as well as the feast of tabernacles, after harvest. Oar 
Christmas and Easter correspond to the Pongol and Holi of the 
Hindus in point of time; and even the observances usual at 
Christmas have, as Wilson has pointed out, much resemblance 
to those of the Pongol. 

Tliere are in Ceylon five annual festivals, of which one, 
occurring at the commencement of the year (in April), is marked 
by the singular circumstance that "before New Year's day 
every individual procures from an astrologer a writing, fixing 
the fortunate hours of the approaching year on which to com- 
mence duties or ceremonies." Of the five festivals the most 
important was the Paiaherra, which lasted irom the new moon 
to the lull moon in July, and consisted mainly in a series of 
religious processions, concluding with one in which the casket 
containing the Dalada, or tooth of Buddha, was borne upon an 
elephant. The fifth festival, called that of "New Eice," was 
held at the commencement of the great harvest, and was the 
occasion of offerings made with a view to good crops (E. Y., 
vol. i. p. 314-318). 

The consecrated actions by which men seek to recommend 
themselves to their gods at these special seasons are very vari- 
ous. It would be useless to attempt to enumerate them at 
length. Of the manner in which New Year's day is observed 
among the Chinese, (C. O., vol. ii. pp. 194, 195) the commence- 
ment of the year among Hindus (W. W., vol. ii. p. 158 ff.), and 
Christmas among ourselves, it will be unnecessary to speak at 
all, for there is little of a religious character in these festivals. 
Indeed, New Year's day in China seems to be a merely secular 
festival; while the Christmas season in European countries, 
though varnished over with a religious gloss, is in reality pal- 
pably one of popular rejoicing, handed down from our pagan 
ancestors, and placed in a legendary relation to the birth of 
Christ. The religious rites wliich may accompany this festival 
have therefore a secondary importance. Those observed at 
other times bear reference either to the frame of mind induced 
by the season, or to the particular legend commemorated; or 
they may be purely arbitrary and enjoined by ecclesiastical 
authority. An example of the first kind is the Jewish feast of 
tabernacles, when the harvest had been gathered in, and the 



64 CONSECRATED ACTIONS. 

Jews were enjoined to carry boughs of trees and rejoice seven 
days (Lev. xxiii. 40). Examples of the second class are com- 
mon. Legends are frequently related in order to account for 
festivals, while sometimes festivals may be instituted in conse- 
quence of a legend. Thus, the extraordinary story of the man- 
ifestation of Siva as an interminable Llnga, is told by the Hin- 
dus to account for their worship of that organ on the twenty- 
seventh of February (W. W., vol. ii. p. 211). In this case, the 
rites have reference to the legend ; the setting up a Linga in 
their houses, consecrating, and offering to it, are ceremonies 
which refer to the event present in the minds of the worshipers; 
but it is more natural to suppose that the existence of the rites 
led to the invention of the legend, than that the legend induced 
the establishment of the rites. "The three essential observ- 
ances," says Wilson, *'are fasting during the whole Tithi, or 
lunar day, and holding a vigil and worshiping the' Linga during 
the night ; but the ritual is loaded with a vast number of direc- 
tions, not only for the presentation of offerings of various kinds 
to the Linga, but for gesticulations to be employed, and prayers 
to be addressed to various subordinate divinities connected with 
Siva, and to Siva himself in a variety of forms " (Ibid., vol. ii. 
p. 212). At another of the Hindu festivals, the effigy of Kama 
is burnt, to commemorate the fact of that god having been 
reduced to ashes by flames from Siva, and having been subse- 
quently restored to life at the intercession of Siva's bride (W. 
W., vol. ii. p. 231). In like manner the jesting of the Greek 
woman at the Thesmophoria was explained by reference to the 
laughter of Demetcr (Bib., i. 5. 1.). The Jewish passover was 
eaten with rites which were symbolical of the state of the na- 
tion just before its escape from Egypt, the time to which their 
tradition assigned the original passover; and the ritual in use 
among Christians at Easter bears reference to the story of 
Christ's resurrection, which in this case no doubt preceeeded the 
institution of the festival." The third class of rites — those which 
are purely arbitrary or have a merely theological significance 
— are the most usual of all. These, as will be obvious at once, 
may vary indefinitely. Fasting is one of the most usual of such 
observances. It is practiced by the Hindus at many of their 
festivals, by Mussulmans during the month of Kamadan, and 



RITES AT FESTIVALS. 65 

by Christians in Lent. Bathing is also a common religious 
practice of the Hindus at their festivals. The use of holy water 
by Catholics on entering their churches is a ceremony of a sim- 
ilar kind, and no doubt having the same intention, that of 
purification. The Jews were to sacrifice at all their festivals, 
and on one of them to afflict their souls (Lev. xxiii. 27). Chris- 
tians, among wh ;m there are very numerous festivals, vary 
their ritual according to the character of the day. 

One or two specimens of the rites observed on festival days 
will suffice as an illustration. The Peruvians, in their pagan 
days, used to have festivals every month : the greatest of these 
was that of the Trinity, celebrated in December. '*In this 
feast," says Acosta, "they sacrificed a great number of .sheep 
and lambs, and they burnt them with worked and odoriferous 
wood ; and some sheep carried gold and silver, and they placed 
on them the three statues of the Sun, and the three of Thun- 
der; father, brother, and son, whom they said that the Sun 
and Thunder had. In this feast they dedicated the Inca chil- 
dren, and placed the Guacas, or ensigns on them, and the old 
men whipped them with slings, and anointed their faces with 
blood, all in token that they should be loyal knights of the 
Inca. No stranger might remain during this month and feast 
at Cuzco, and at the end all those from without entered ; and 
they gave them those pieces of maize with the blood of the 
sacrifice, which they eat, in token of confederation with the 
Inca" (H. I., b. 5. ch. 27). Equally curious are the rites pre- 
scribed by the Catholic Church for Holy Saturday. They are 
'much too long to be described in full, but the following extract 
will convey a notion of their character: "At a proper hour the 
altars are covered over, and the hours are said, the candles 
being extinguished on the altar until the beginning of mass. 
In the meanwhile, fire is struck from a stone at the church- 
door, and coals kindled with it. The none being said, the 
priest, putting on his amice, alb, girdle, stole, and violet plu- 
vial, or without his capsula, the attendants standing by him 
with the cross, with the blessed water and incense, before the 
gate of the church, if convenient, or in the porch of the church, 
he blesses the new fire, saying, The Lord be with you ; and the 
attendants reply. And with thy spirit." Prayers follow. "Then 



56 CONSECRATED ACTIONS. 

he blesses five grains of incense to be placed on the wax, say- 
ing his prayer." After the prayer, incense is put in the censer, 
and sprinkled with water. *' Meanwhile, all the lights of the 
church are extinguished, that they may be afterwards kindled 
from the blessed fire." The candles are lighted with many 
ceremonies. The incense having been previously blessed, " the 
deacon fixes five grains of the blessed incense on the wax in 
the form of a cross." This wax is then lighted. When *'the 
blessing of the wax taper" is finished, the prophets are read, 
and the catechumens during the reading are prepared for bap- 
tism.* These proceedings, in which the notion of the sanctity 
of fire— a notion shared by Koman Catholics with Parsees 
and others -- is apparent, are particularly interesting, as show- 
ing the community of sentiment and of rites between the 
Church of Eome and her pagan predecessors. 

In the instances hitherto given, the consecrated actions have 
been performed by the v/hole body of believers for the benefit 
of all. They are means by which their religious union among 
each other is strengthened, as well as their relation to the 
deity they worship solemnly expressed. But there is another 
class of consecrated actions which benefit, not the congrega- 
tion or sect at large, but a particular individual for whose 
advantage they are performed. There are certain moments in 
the life of the individual at which he seems peculiarly to need 
the protection of God. Were these moments suffered to pass 
unobserved in a single case, it would appear as if he whose life 
had been thus untouched by religion stood outside the pale of 
the common faith, unhallowed and unblessed. And a total ne- 
glect of all these periods, even among savages, is, if not alto- 
gether unknown, at least so rare as to demand no special notice 
in a general analysis of religious systems. With extraordinary 
unanimity, those systems have pitched upon four epochs as 
demanding consecration by the observance of special rites. 
Two of them are thus consecrated wherever a definite religion 
exists at all. The other two are generally consecrated, though 



* Lewis, The Bible, &c., p. 496. For a full account of the ceremonies on 
Holy Saturday at Rome, see A. M. Baggs, D. D.. The Ceremonies of Holy 
Week, p. 96. 



BITES AT BIRTH. 57 

in their case exceptions more frequently occur. The four 
moments, or periods of life to which I refer, are 

1. Birth. 

2. Puberty. 

3. Matrimony. 

4. Death. 

Of these, the first and fourth are never suffered to pass 
without religious observances, or at least, observances which, by 
their solemnity and indispensable obligation, approach to a 
religious character The second is usually marked by some 
kind of rite in the case of males; in that of females it is often 
suffered to pass unobserved. The third is always placed under 
a religious sanction, except among savages of a very low order. 

Let us proceed to illustrate these propositions in the case of 
birth. The ceremonies attendant upon this event need not 
take place immediately after it; they may be deferred some 
days, weeks, or months; they will still fall under the same cate- 
gory, as designed to mark the child's entry into the world. 
Their form will naturally vary according to the state of civiliza- 
tion of the nation observing them; but notwithstanding this 
there is a strange similarity among them. In Samoa, for 
instance, "if the little stranger was a boy, the umbilicus was 
cut on a club, that he might grow up to be brave in war. If of 
the other sex, it was done on the board on which they beat out 
the bark of which they make their native cloth. Cloth-making 
is the work of women ; and their wish was, that the littlev girl 
should grow up and prove useful to the family in her proper 
occupation " (N. Y., p. 175). I have added Mr. Turner's observ- 
ation to render the nature of this ceremony plainer. It 
appears hardly religious; yet when we consider the symbolical 
means by which the end is sought to be attained, and that 
among savages so rude as those of Polynesia religion would 
have no higher practical aims than to make the boys good 
warriors, and the women industrious cloth- makers, we may 
admit that even this elementary rite has in it something of a 
religious consecration. When secular objects are attained by 
mystical ceremonials, wliich have no direct tendency to produce 
the desired result, we may generally conclude that religious 
belief is at the bottom of them. In the present instance this 



58 CONSECRATED ACTIONS. 

conclusion is still further strengthend by fhe description given 
by the same author of a similar ceremony in another island of 
the Potiynesian group. There, when a boy is born, "a priest 
cuts the umbilicus on a particular stone from Lifu, that the 
youth may be sto?ie-hearted in battle. The priest, too, at the 
moment of the ox^eration, must have a vessel of water before 
him, dyed black as ink, that the l?oy when he grows up, may 
be courageous to go anywhere to baltle on a pitch-dark night, 
and thus, from his very birth, the little fellovv is consecrated to 
war" (N. Y., pp. 423, 424). Here the religious nature of tlie 
operation is explicitly proved by the presence of the priest, the 
inevitable agent in such communications between God and man. 
Another inissionary to the same race — the Polynesian islanders 
— informs us that among these people mothers dedicated their 
offspring to various deities, but principally to Hiro, the god of 
thieves, and Oro, the god of war. '* Most parents, however, 
were anxious that their children should become brave and 
renowned warriors," and with this end they dedicated them, by 
means of ceremonies beginning before parturition, and ending 
after it, to the god Oro. The principal ceremony after birth 
consisted in the priest catching the spirit of the god, by a pecul- 
iar process, and imparting it to the child. Here again the pres- 
ence of the priest, and the formal dedication to a god — even 
though he be a god of questionable morality — render the relig- 
ious element in the natal ceremonies of these very primitive 
savages abundantly plain (N. M. E., p. 543). 

Baptism, or washing at birth, is a common process, and is 
found in countries the most widely separated on the face of the 
earth, and the most unconnected in religious genealogy. Asia, 
America, and Europe alike present us with examples of this 
rite. It seems to be a rude form of it which prevails in Fantee 
in Africa, where the father, on the eighth day after birth, after 
thanking the gods for the birth of his child, squirts some ardent 
spirits upon him from his mouth, and then pronounces his 
name, at the same time praying for his future welfare, and 
*' that he may live to be old, and become a stay and support 
to his family," and if his namesake be living, that he may 
prove worthy of the name he has received (Asha, p. 226). A rite 
of baptism at birth, says Brinton, "was of immemorial antiq- 



RITES AT BIRTH. 59 

uity among the Cherokees, Aztecs, Mayas, and Peruvians," and 
this rite was "connected with the imposing of a name, done 
avowedly for the purpose of freeing from inherent sin, believed 
to produce a spiritual regeneration, nay, in more than one in- 
stance, called by an indigenous word signifying ' to be born 
again'" (M. N. W., p. 128). Mexico possessed elaborate rites to 
consecrate nativity. When the Mexican infant ivas four days 
old it was carried naked by the midwife into the court of the 
mother's house. Here it was bathed in a vessel prepared for 
the purpose, and three boys, who were engaged in eating a 
special food, were desired by the midwife to pronounce its name 
aloud, this name being prescribed to them by her. The infant, 
if a boy, carried with it the symbol of its father's profession; 
if a girl, a spinning-wheel and distaff, with a small basket and 
a handful of brooms, to indicate its future occupation. The 
umbilical cord was then offered with the symbols; and in case 
"of a male infant, these objects were buried in the place where 
war was likely to occur; in case of a female infant, beneath the 
stone where meal was ground.* The above statements rest on 
the authority of Mendoza's collection. A still more complete 
narrative of these baptismal ceremonies is given by Bernardino 
de Sahagun, who records the terms of the prayers habitually 
employed by the officiating midwife. Their extreme interest to 
the study of comparative religion will justify me in extracting 
some of them, the more so as they have never (so far as I am 
aware) been published in English.f 

Suppose that the infant to be baptized was a boy. After the 
symbolical military api^ratus had been prepared, and all the 
relatives assembled in the court of the parents' house, the mid- 
wife placed it with the head to the East, and prayed for a bless- 
ing from the god Quelzalcoatl and the goddess of the water, 
Chalchivitlycue. She then gave it water to taste by moistening 
the fingers, and spoke as follows: "Take, receive; thou seest 
here that with which thou hast to live on earth, that thou 
mayest grow and flourish : this it is to which we owe the neces- 
saries of life, that we may live on earth: receive it." Here- 

• A. M., vol. V. V. 90 (Spanish), and vol. vi. p. 45 rEnglish). 
t Brinton has given a very imperfect version of two of them in his M. N. 
W., pp. 127, 128. 



60 CONSECEATED ACTIONS. 

upon, having touched its breast with the fingers dipped in 
water, she continued: "Omictomx! O my child! receive the 
water of the Lord of the world, which is our life, and by which 
our body grows and flourishes: it is to wash and to purify; may 
this sky-blue and light-blue water enter thy body and there 
live. May it destroy and separate from thee all the evil that 
was beginning in thee before the beginning of the world, since 
all of us men are subject to its power, for our mother is Chal- 
chivitlycue." After this she washed the child's whole body with 
water, and proceeded to request all things that might injure him 
to depart from him, " that now he may live again, and be born 
again: now a second time he is purified and cleansed, and a 
second tirSe our mother Chalchivitlycue forms and begets him.'» 
Then lifting the child in both hands towards the sky, she said : 
''O Lord, thou seest here thy child w'hom thou hast sent to 
this world of pain, affliction, and penitence: give him, O Lord, 
thy gif(:s and thy inspiration, for thou art the great God, and 
great is the goddess also." After this she deposited the infant 
on the ground, and then raising it a second time towards the 
sky, implored the "mother of heaven" to endow it with her 
virtue. Next, having again laid it down, and a third time lifted 
it up, she offered this prayer: "O Lords, the gods of heaven! 
here is this child; be pleased to inspire him with your grace 
and your spirit, that he may live on earth." After a final de- 
positing she raised him a fourth time towards the sky, and in 
a prayer, addressed to the sun, solemnly placed him under the 
protection of that deity. Taking the weapons she proceeded 
further to implore the sun on his behalf for military virtues : 
"Grant him the gift that thou art wont to give thy soldiers, 
that he may go full of joy to thy house, where valiant soldiers 
who die in war rest and are happy." While all this was going 
on, a large torch of candlewood was kept burning; and on con- 
clusion of the prayers the midwife gave the infant some ances- 
tral name. Let it be Yautl (which means valiant man): then 
she addressed him thus: "Yautl! take thou the shield! take 
the dart! for those are thy recreation, and the joys of the sun.". 
The completion of the religious office was signalized by the 
youths of the village coming in a body to the house and seiz- 
ing the food prepared for them, which they called " the child's 



BITES AT BIRTH. ^1 

umbilicus." As they went along with this food they shouted 
out a sort of military exhortation to the new-born boy, and 
called upon the soldiers to come and eat the (so-called) umbili- 
cus. All being over, the infant was carried back to the house, 
preceded by the blazing torch. Much the- same was the process 
of baptizing a girl, except that the clothes and implements 
were suited to her sex. In her case, certain formularies were 
muttered by the midwife during the washing, in a low, inaudi- 
ble tone, to the several parts of her body: thus she charged 
the hands not to steal, the secret parts not to be carnal, and so 
forth with each member as she washed it. Moreover, a prayer 
to the cradle, which seems in a manner to personify the univer- 
sal mother earth, was introduced in the baptism of females (C. 
N. E. b. 6, chs. 37, 38). 

If from heathen America we turn to Asia, we find that in 
the vast domain of the Buddhist faith the birth of children is 
regularly the occasion, of a ceremony at which the priest is 
present (E. B. vol. 1. p. 584,) and that in Mongolia and Thibet 
this ceremony assumes the special form of baptism. Candles 
burn, and incense is offered on the domestic altar; the priest 
reads the prescribed prayers, dips the child three times, and 
imposes on it a name (K. B. vol. ii. p. 320). A species of bap- 
tism prevails also among the Parsees, and was even enjoined by 
the Parsee Leviticus, the Vendidad. This very ancient code 
required that the child's hands should be washed first, and then 
its whole body (Av. vol. ii. p. xix— Vendidad, xvi. 18-20). The 
modern practice goes further. Before putting it to the breast, 
the Parsee mother sends to a Mobed (or priest), to obtain some 
Haoma juice ; she steeps some cotton in it, and presses this into 
the child's mouth. After this, it must be washed three times in 
cow's urine, and once in water, the reason assigned being that 
it is impure. If the washing be omitted, it is the parents, not 
the child, who bear the sin (Z. A., v.l. ii. p. 551). 

Slightly different in form, but altogether similar in essence, 
is the rite administered by the Christian Church to its new-born 
members. Like those which have been just described, it con- 
sists in baptism ; but it offers a more remarkable instance than 
any of them of the tenacity with which the human mind, under 
the influence of religious belief, insists upon the performance 



62 CONSECRATED ACTIONS. 

of some kind of ceremony immediately after, or, at the most, 
at no great interval after birth. Christian baptism was not orig- 
inally intended to be administered to unconscious infants, but 
to persons in full possession of their faculties, and responsible 
for their actions. Moreover, it was performed, as is well known, 
not by merely sprinkling the forehead, but by causing the can- 
didate to descend naked into the water, the priest joining him 
there, and pouring the water over his head. The catechumen 
could not receive baptism until after he understood something 
of the nature of the faith he was embracing, and was prepared 
to assume its obligations. A rite more totally unfitted for ad- 
ministration to infants could hardly have been found. Yet such 
was the need that was felt for a solemn recognition by religion 
of the entrance of the child into the world, that this rite, in 
course of time, completely lost its original nature. Infancy took 
the place of maturity ; sprinkling of immersion. But while the 
age and manner of baptism were altered, the ritual remained 
under the influence of the primitive idea with which it had been 
instituted. The obligations could no longer be undertaken by 
the persons baptized ; hence they must be undertaken for them. 
Thus was the Christian Church landed in the absurdity — unpar- 
alleled, I believe, in any other natal ceremony— of requiring 
the most solemn promises to be made, not by those who were 
thereafter to fulfil them, but by others in their name ; these 
others having no power to enforce their fulfillment, and neither 
those actually assuming the engagement, nor those on whose 
behalf it was assumed, being morally responsible in case it 
should be broken. Yet this strange incongruity was forced upon 
the Church by an imperious want of human nature itself; and 
the insignificant sects who have adopted the baptism of adults 
have failed, in their zeal for historical consistency, to recognize 
a sentiment whose roots lie far deeper than the chronological 
foundation of Christian rites, and stretch far wider than the 
geographical boundaries of the Christian faith. 

The intention of all these forms of baptism — that of Ashan- 
tee perhaps excepted — is identical. Water, as the natural means 
of physical cleansing, is the universal symbol of spiritual puri- 
fication. Hence immersion, or washing, or sprinkling, implies 
the deliverance of the infant from the stain of original sin. 



RITES AT BIRTH. 68 

The Mexican and Christian rituals are perrectly clear on this 
head. In both, the avowed intention is to wash away the sin- 
ful nature common to humanity; in both the infant is declared 
to be born again by the agency of water. 

Another ceremony very frequently practised at the birth of 
children is circumcision. The wide-spread existence of this rite is 
one of the most remarkable facts in comparative religious his- 
tory. We know from Herodotus, that it was practised by the 
Colchians, Egyptians, Ethiopians, and Phoenicians (Herod., ii. 
104). It has been found in modern times, not only in many 
parts of Africa — to which it may have come from Egypt — but 
in the South Sea Islands and on the American continent. Thus, 
according to Beecham, there are "some people," among the 
Gold Coast Africans, who circumcise their children (Asha, p. 
225), though what proportion these circumcisers bear to the rest 
of the population, he does not inform us. Another traveler de- 
scribes the mode of circumcising infants in the Negro kingdom 
of Fida or Juda, a country to which he believes that Islamism 
has not penetrated (V. G. vol. ii p. 159). The operation is very 
simple, and appears to be done without any religious ceremony ; 
but the natives, when pressed as to the reason of the custom, 
can only reply that their ancestors observed it — an answer 
which would properly apply to a rite of religious origin whose 
meaning has been forgotten. Acosta, in his account of Mexican 
baptism, adds that a ceremony which in some sort imitated the 
circumcision of the Jews, was occasionally performed by the 
Mexicans in their baptism, principally on the children of kings 
and noblemen. It consisted in cutting the ears and private 
members of male infants (H. I., b. 5, ch. 26 No. 2). That tlie 
Jews circumcise their male children on the eighth day T need 
not state. The rite is performed with much solemnity, and is 
connected, as is common in these ceremonies, with the bestowal 
of a name on the child, the name being given by the father 
after the operation is over. Although circumcision is a cere- 
mony which usually applies only to boys, and although it some- 
times happens that the birth of girls is not marked like that of 
boys by any religious rite, yet the Jews do not omit to conse- 
crate their female children as well as those of the stronger sex, 
though with less solemnity. " The first Saturday after the end 



64 CONSECBATED ACTIONS. 

of the month " of the mother's lying-in, she goes to the syna- 
gogue with her friends, where " the father of the girl is called 
up to the law on the altar, and there after a chapter hath been 
read to him as usual on the Sabbath morning, he orders the 
reader to say a Mee-Shabeyrach," or a prayer for a blessing (Eel. 
of Jews, p. 27 1st part). 

It is unnecessary, after these instances, to describe the vari- 
ous modes of consecrating the commencement of life which are 
in use in other countries. Enough has been said to show how 
general, if not how universal, such consecrating usages are; 
how religion, supported by the sentiment of mankind, siezes 
upon the life of the individual from the first moments of his 
existence ; and demands, as one of the very earliest actions to 
be performed on his behalf, a solemn recognition of the fact 
that he stands under the influence, and needs the protection, of 
an invisible and superhuman power. 

After birth, the next marked epoch in life is the arrival at 
manhood or at womanhood. The transition from infancy to 
maturity, from dependence on others to self-dependence, from 
an unsexual to a sexual physical and mental condition, has, 
like the actual entrance upon life and departure from it, been 
appropriated by religion with a view to its consecration by fit- 
ting rites. Since there is no precise time at which the boy can 
be said to become a youth, or the girl a maiden, the age at 
which the ceremonies attending puberty are performed varies 
very considerably in different countries. The range of variation 
is from eight to sixteen, though there are exceptional cases both 
of earlier and later initiation into the new stage of existence. 
Generally speaking, however, these ages are the limits within 
which the religious solemnities of puberty are confined. 

More clearly, perhaps, than any of those occurring at the 
other crises of our lives, these solemnities are pervaded by 
common characteristics. Primitive man in Australia, in Amer- 
ica, and in Africa, marks the advent of puberty in a manner 
which is essentially the same. When we rise to the higher 
class of religions, v/e find ceremonies of a different kind from 
which the ruder symbolism of the savage creeds is absent. 
But from the uniformity of the types of ijiitiation into manhood 
among uncivilized people, it i-s highly probable that the progen- 



RITES AT PUBERTY. 65 

itors of the Aryan and Semitic races also, at some period of 
their history, employed similar methods of rendering this epoch 
in life impressive and remarliable. Two distinguishing features 
characterize the rites of puberty— cruelty and mystery. There 
is always some painful ordeal to be undergone by the young 
men or boys who have attained the requisite age; and this 
ordeal is to be passed through in extreme secrecy as regards 
the opposite sex, and with a ceremonial of an unknown charac- 
ter, which is hidden from all but the initiated performers. 
Sometimes the puberty of women is also sanctified by religious 
ceremonies, and these follov/ the same rules, except that the 
female sex are not required to undergo such severe suffering 
as is often inflicted upon men. While, however, the cruelty is 
less, the mystery is the same. Men are not admitted to witness 
the performances gone through, and these are conducted in 
secluded places to which no access is allowed. 

The meaning of these two features of the rites of puberty is 
not difficult to divine. Young men enter at that age on a 
period of their lives in which they are expected to display cour- 
age in danger and firmness under pain. Hence the infliction of 
some kind of suffering is an appropriate symbolical preparation 
for their future careers. Moreover, the manner in which they 
endure their agony serves as a test of their fortitude, and may 
influence the position to be assigned to them in the warlike 
expeditions of the tribe. But the primary motive, no doubt, is 
the apparent fitness of the infliction of pain at an age when 
the necessary pains of manhood are about to begin. 

The explanation of the secrecy observed is equally simple. 
A mysterious change takes place in the physical condition at 
puberty, the generative functions, which are to play so large a 
part in the life of the individual, making their appearance then. 
It is this natural process to which the religious process bears 
reference. Without doubt the rites performed stand in symbol- 
ical relation to the new class of actions of which their subject 
is, or will be, capable. It is this allusion to the sexual instinct 
— a subject always tending to be shrouded in mystery — which 
is the origin of the jealous exclusion of women from the rites 
undergone by men, and of men from those undergone by 
women. The members of each sex are, so to speak, prepared 



66 CONSECRATED ACTIONS. 

alone for the pleasures they are afterwards to enjoy together. 
Religion, ever ready to seize on the more solemn moments of 
our existence, seeks to consecrate the time at which the two 
sexes are ready to enter towards one another on a new and 
deeply important relationship. 

Bearing these characteristics in mind, we may proceed to 
notice a few of the ceremonies performed at puberty. Let us 
begin with the most barbarous of all, those witnessed by Mr. 
Catlin among the Mandans, a tribe of North American Indians 
now happily extinct. The usual secrecy was observed about 
the "0-kee-pa," as this great Mandan ceremony is termed, and 
it was only by a favor, never before accorded to a stranger, 
that Mr. Catlin was enabled to be present in the " Medicine 
Lodge," where the operations were conducted. In the first 
place a mysterious personage, supposed to represent a white 
man, appeared from the west and opened the lodge. At his 
approach all women and children were ordered to retire 
within their wigwams. Next day the young men who had 
arrived at muturity during the last year were summoned to 
come forth, the rest of the villagers remaining shut up. After 
committing the conduct of the ceremonies to a "medicine 
man," this personage returned to the west with the same mj^s- 
tery with which he had come. The young men were now kept 
without food, drink, or sleep, for four days and four nights. 
In the middle of the fourth day two men began to operate upon 
them, the one making incisions with a knife in their flesh, and 
the other passing splints through the wounds, from which the 
blood trickled over their naked, but painted bodies. The parts 
through which the knife was passed were on each arm, above 
and below the elbow; on each leg, above and below the knee; 
on each breast, and each shoulder. The young men not only 
did not wince, but smiled at their civilized observer 'during this 
process. " When these incisions were all made, and^the splints 
passed through, a cord of raw hide was lowered down through 
the top of the wigwam, and fastened to the splints on the 
breasts or shoulders, by which the young man was to be raised 
up and suspended, by men placed on the top of the lodge for 
the purpose. These cords having been attached to the splints 
on the breast or the shoulders, each one had his -shield hung to 



RITES AT PUBERTY. 67 

some one of the splints : his medicine bag was held in his left 
hand, and a dried buffalo skull was attached to the splint of 
each lower leg and each lower "arm, that its weight might pre- 
vent him from struggling." At a signal, the men were drawn 
up three or four feet above the ground, and turned round with 
gradually increasing velocity, by a man with a pole, until they 
fainted. Although they had never groaned before, they uttered 
a heart-rending cry, a sort of prayer to the Great Spirit, during 
the turning. Having ceased to cry, they were let down 
apparently dead. Left entirely to themselves, they in time 
were able "partly to rise," and no sooner could they do 
thus much than they moved to another part of the lodge, 
where the little finger of the left hand was cut off with a 
hatchet. But their tortures were not over. The rest of them 
took place in public, and were perhaps more frightful than any. 
The victims were taken out of the lodge, and, being each placed 
between two athletic men, were dragged along, the men hold- 
ing them with thongs and running with them as fast as they 
could, until all the buffalo skulls and weights hanging to the 
splints were left behind. These weights must be dragged out 
through the flesh, the candidates having the option of running 
in the race described, or of wandering about the prairies with- 
out food until suppuration took place, and the weights came off 
by decay of the flesh. These horrors concluded, the young 
men were left alone to recover as best they might. Mr. Catlin 
could only hear of one who had died "in the extreme part of 
this ceremony," and his fate was considered rather a happy 
one: "the Great Spirit had so willed it for some especial pur- 
pose, and no doubt for the young man's benefit" (0-kee-pa, 
p. 9-32). 

Nor were^ the Mandans alone on the American continent in 
marking the entrance upon manhood by distinctive observances. 
On the contrary, a writer of the highest authority on- Eed In- 
dian subjects, states that no young man among the n^ative 
tribes was considered fit to begin the career of life until he had 
accomplished his great fast. Seven days were considered the 
maximum time during which a young man could fast, and the 
success of the devotee was inferred from the length of his 
abstinence. These fasts, says Mr. Schoolcraft, "are awaited 



68 CONSECRATED ACTIONS. 

with interest, prepared for with solemnity, and endured with a 
self-devotion bordering on the heroic. . . . It is at this 
period that the young men and young women *see visions and 
dream dreams,' and fortune or misfortune is predicted from the 
guardian spirit chosen during this, to them, religious ordeal. 
The hallucinations of the mind are taken for divine inspiration. 
The effect is deeply felt and strongly impressed on the mind; 
too deeply, indeed, ever to be obliterated in after life." It 
appears that they always in after life trust to, and meditate on, 
the guardian spirit whom they have chosen at this critical 
moment; but that ''the name is never uttered, and every cir- 
cumstance connected with its selection, and the devotion paid 
to it, are most studiously and i)rofessedly concealed, even from 
their nearest friends" (A. R, vol. 1. pp. 149, 150). Mystery is 
certainly pushed to its highest point, when the name of the 
spirit chosen at puberty, and the very circumstances of the 
choice, are preserved as an inviolable secret within the breast 
of the devotee. 

New South Wales is distinguished by a ceremony which, 
though far less severe than that of the Mandans, is neverthe- 
less sufficiently painful. "Between the ages of eight and six- 
teen the males and females undergo the operation which they 
term Gnanoong; viz., that of having the septum of the nose 
bored to receive a bone or reed. . . . Between the same 
years, also, the males receive the qualifications which are given 
to them by losing one front tooth." The loss of a tooth is not 
in itself a very serious matter, but the intention of the extrac- 
tion being religious, the natives contrive to get rid of it in the 
most barbarous mode. The final event is led up to by a series 
of performances of a more or less emblematic nature. One of 
them, for instance, is suppoised to give power over the dog; 
another refers to the hunting of the kangaroo. There is the 
usual mystery about some part of the proceedings. When the 
boys were being arranged for the removal of the tooth "the 
author [Collins] was not permitted to witness this part of the 
business, about which they appeared to observe a greater degree 
of mystery and preparation than he had noticed in either of 
the preceding ceremonies." After this, some of the performers 
in the rite went through a number of extraordinary motions. 



RITES AT PUBERTY. 69 

and made strange noises. " A particular name, too-roo-moo- 
roong, was given to this scene; but of its import very litile 
could be learned. To the inquiries made respecting' it no answer 
could bo obtained, but that it was very good ; that the boys 
would now become brave men ; that they would see well and 
fight well." "When the tooth was to be taken out, the gum was 
first prepared by a sharply-pointed bone; and a throwing-stick, 
cut for the purpose with ''much ceremony," was then applied 
to the tooth, and knocked against it by means of a stone in fhe 
hand of the operator. The tooth was thus struck out of the 
gum, the operation taking ten minutes in the case of the first 
boy on whom the author witnessed this process being performed. 
After the tooth was gone, *'the gum was closed by his friends, 
who now equipped him in the style that he was to appear in 
for some days. A girdle was tied round his waist, in which was 
stuck a wooden sword ; a ligature was bound round his head, 
in which were stuck slips of the grass-gum tree." The boy 
" was on no account to speak, and for that day he was not to 
eat." The sufferers in this ceremonial did not long remain qui- 
escent. In the evening they had fresh duties to discharge. 
"Suddenly, on a signal being given, they all started up, and 
rushed into the town, driving before them men, women, and 
children, who were glad to get out of their way. They were 
now received into the class of men ; were privileged to wield the 
sword and the club, and to oppose their persons in combat; 
and might now seize such females as they chose for wives." 
The sexual import of the cerejjiony is clearly brought into view 
by the last words of the writer. He adds that, having expressed 
a wish to possess some of the teeth, they were given him by 
two men with extreme secrecy, and injunctions not to betray 
them (N. S. W., p. 364-374). 

Another observer has described the same rite as performed 
in a somewhat different manner, "by the tribes of the Mac- 
quarrie district" farther north. When these tribes assemble 
"to celebrate the mysteries cf Kebarrah," as it is termed, all 
hostility which may exist at the time is laid aside for the nonce. 
" When the cooi or cowack sounds the note of preparation, the 
women and children in haste make their way towards the 
ravines and guUeys, and there remain concealed." The den- 



70 CONSECRATED ACTIONS. 

tistry of these tribes is less scientific than that of New South 
Wales. The tooth is knocked out *' by boring a hole in a tree, 
and inserting into it a small hard twig; the tooth is then 
brought into contact with the end, and one individual holds the 
candidate's head in a firm position against it, whilst another, 
exerting all his strength, pushes the boy's head forwards; the 
concussion causes the tooth, with frequently a portion of the 
gum adhering to it, to fall out." But this is not all the poor 
boy has to endure, for while "some men stand over him, brand- 
ishing their waddles, menacing him with instant death if he 
utters any complaint," others cut his back in stripes, and make 
incisions on his shoulders with flints. It is an interesting part 
of these ceremonies, that the least groan or indication of pain 
is summarily punished by the utterance, on the part of the 
operators, of three yells to proclaim the fact, and by the trans- 
fer of the boy to the care of the women, who are summoned to 
receive him. If he does not shrink, "he is admitted to the 
rank of a huntsman and a warrior " (S. L. A., vol. ii. p. 216-224). 

In other parts of Australia, different ceremonies prevail. 
Thus, in one of the districts visited by Mr. Angas, when boys 
arrive at the age of fourteen or sixteen, they are "selected and 
caught by stealth," and the hairs of their body are plucked 
out, and green gum-bushes are placed " under the arm-pits and 
over the os pubis." Among the privileges conferred on those 
who have undergone this treatment, is that of wearing "two 
kangaroo teeth, and a bunch of emu feathers in their hair." 
More significant still is the permission to "possess themselves 
of wives," which the young men now obtain. The "scrub- 
natives" vary the initiation again. Among them the boy, 
brought by an old man, is laid upon his back in the midst of 
five fires which are lighted around him. An instrument, called 
a wittoo wittoo, is whirled round over the fires, with the inten- 
tion of keeping off evil spirits. Lastly, "with a sharp flint, the 
old man cuts off the foreskin, and places it on the third finger 
0- the boy's 'left hand, who then gets up, and with another 
native, selected for the purpose, goes away into th6 hills to 
avoid the sight of women for some time. No wbmen are al- 
lowed to be present at this rite" (S. L. A., vol. i. pp. 98, 99). 

Elsewhere on the same continent, there are three stages to 



BITES AT PUBERTY. 71 

be passed on the road from boyhood to manhood. "At the age 
of twelve or fifteen the boj's are removed to a place apart from 
the women, whom they are not permitted to see, and then blind- 
folded. Among some other ceremonies their faces are blackened, 
and they are told to whisper, an injunction peculiarly charac- 
teristic of the mysteriousness which is so constant a feature of 
the rites of puberty. For several months this whispering con- 
tinues, and it is noteworthy, as a sign of the sexual nature of 
these proceedings, that the place where the whispers have been 
"is carefully avoided by the women and children." In the 
second ceremony, which occurs two or three, years later, "the 
glans penis is slit open underneath, from the extremity to the 
scrotum, and circumcision is also performed." After this second 
stage, the Partnapas, as the youths are now styled, "are per- 
mitted to take a wife." In the third ceremony each man has 
a sponsor, by whom he is tatooed with a sharp quartz. These 
sponsors, moreover, bestow on each lad a new name, which he 
retains during the remainder of his life. Certain other perform- 
ances are gone through, such as putting an instrument termed 
a witarna round the lads' necks, and then "the ceremony con- 
cludes by the men all clustering round the initiated ones, 
enjoining them again to whisper for some months, and bestow- 
ing upon them their advice as regards hunting, fighting, and 
contempt of pain. All these ceremonies are carefully kept from 
the sight of the women and the children ; who, when they hear 
the sound of the witarna^ hide their heads and exhibit every 
outward sign of terror" (S. L. A., vol. 1. p. 113-116). 

Leaving Australia, let us pass to Africa, and call Mr. Reade 
as a witness to some of the rites of puberty existing among the 
savages of that continent. The following extract is doubly in- 
teresting, as furnishing some account of the application to girls 
of the general principles involved in these rites, and also as 
supplying, in the author's opinion, that they are of a Phallic 
nature, a confirmation of the conclusions we had reached from 
a survey of the evidence as a whole: 

"Before they are permitted to wear clothes, marry, and rank 
in soTjiety as men and women, the young have to be initiated 
into certain mysteries. I received some information upon this 
head from Mongilomba, after he had made me promise that I 



72 CONSECBATED ACTIONS. 

would not put it into a book: a promise which I am compelled 
to break by the stern duties of my vocation. He told me that 
he was taken into a fetich-house, stripped, severely flogged, and 
plastered with goat-dung; this ceremony, like those of Masonry, 
being conducted to the sound of music. Afterwards there came 
from behind a kind of screen or shrine uncouth and terrible 
sounds such as he had never heard before. These, he was told, 
emanated from a spirit called Ukuk. He afterwards brought to 
me the instrument with which the fetich-man makes this noise. 
It is a kind of whistle made of hollowed mangrove wood, about 
two inches in length, and covered at one end with a scrap of 
bat's wing. Por a period of five days after initiation the novice 
wears an apron of dry palm leaves, which I have frequently seen. 

"The initiation of the girls is performed by elderly females 
who call themselves Ngembi. They go into the forest, clear a 
place, sweep the ground carefully, come back to the town, and 
build a sacred hut which no male may enter. They return to 
the clearing in the forest, taking with them the Igonji, or 
novice. It is necessary that she should have never been to that 
place before, and that she fast during the whole of the cere- 
mony, which lasts three days. All this time a fire is kept burn- 
ing in the wood. From morning to night, and from night to 
morning, a Ngemhi sits beside it and feeds it, singing, with a 
cracked voice, The fire will never die out! The third night is 
passed in the sacred hut; the Igonji is rubbed with black, red, 
and white paints, and as the men beat drums outside, she cries, 
Okanda, yo ! ijo! ijo! which reminds one of the Evohe! of the 
ancient Bacchantes. The ceremonies which are performed in 
the hut and in the wood are kept secret from the men, and I 
can say but little of them. Mongilomba had evidently been 
playing the spy, but was very reserved upon the subject. Should 
it be known, he said, that he had told me what he had, the 
women would drag him into a fetich-house, and would flog him, 
perhaps till he was dead. 

"It is pretty certain, however, that these rites, like those of 
the Bona Dea, are essentially of a Phallic nature; for Mongil- 
omba once confessed, that having peeped through the chinks of 
the hut, he saw a ceremony like that which is described in 
Petronius Arbiter. ... 



BITES AT PUBERTY. 73 

"During the novitiate which succeeds initiation, the girls 
are taught religious dances — the men are instructed in science 
of fetich" (S. A., p. 245-247). 

The Suzees and the Mandingoes, tribes of Western Africa, 
are distinguished by a rite which, so far as I know, is peculiar 
— the circumcision of women. Both sexes, indeed, are circum- 
cised on reaching puberty, and in the case of the girls it is done 
•*by cutting off the exterior part of the clitoris." With a view 
to this ceremony, "the girls of each town who are judged mar- 
riageable are collected together, and in the night preceeding the 
day on which the ceremony takes place, are conducted by the 
women of the village into the inmost recesses of a wood." Sur- 
rounded by charms to guard every approach to the *' consecrated 
spot," they are kept here in entire seclusion for a month and a 
day, visited only by the old woman who performs the opera- 
tion. During this close confinement they are instructed in the 
religion of their country, which hitherto they have not been 
thought fit to learn. A most singular scene is enacted at its 
close. They return to their homes by night, "where they are 
received by all the women of the village, young and old, quite 
naked." In this condition they go about till morning, with 
music playing ; and should any man be indiscreet enough to 
imitate Peeping Tom, he is punished by death or the forfeiture 
of a slave. After another month of parading and marching in 
procession (no longer nude) the women are given to their 
destined husbands; — another plain indication of the nature of 
these rites. In such veneration is this ceremony held among 
the women of the country, that those who have come from 
other parts, and are already in years, frequently submit to it to 
avoid the reproaches to which uncii'cumcision exposes them. 
Indeed, "the most vilifying term they can possibly use" is 
applied by the circumcised female population to those who do 
not enjoy their religious privileges" (S, L., p. 70-83). 

Puberty is recognized in much the same way among the 
South Sea Islanders. Thus, in Tanna " circumcision is regu- 
larly practised about the seventh year" (N. Y., p. 87). In 
Samoa "a modified form of circumcision prevailed," which boys 
of their own accord, would get performed upon themselves 
about the eighth or tenth year (lb., p. 177). It may be a faint 



74 CONSECRATED ACTIONS. 

beginning of the religious ceremonies of this period of life that, 
in the same island, when girls are entering into womanhood, 
their parents invite all the unmarried women of the settlement 
to a feast, at which presents are distributed among them. At 
least it is worthy of remark that *' none but females are pres- 
sent " on these occasions (lb., p. 184). 

When we rise higher in the scale of culture, we no longer 
find the painful rites by which savage nations mark the appear- 
ance of the sexual instinct. The sacred ceremony of investiture 
with the thread, which distinguished the twice-born classes 
among the Hindus, was performed at this age.- The code of 
Manu is explicit on the subject. " In the eighth year from the 
conception of a Brahman, in the eleventh from that of Kshat- 
riya, and in the twelfth from that of a Vaisya, let the father 
invest the child with the mark of his class." In the case of 
children who desire to advance more rapidly than usual in their 
vocation, "the investiture may be made in the fifth, sixth, or 
eighth years respectively. The ceremony of investiture hal- 
lowed by the gayatri must not be delayed, in the case of a 
priest, beyond the sixteenth year; nor in that of a soldier 
beyond the twenty-second; nor in that of a merchant beyond 
the twenty-fourth." Further postponement would render those 
who were guilty of it outcasts, impure, and unfit to associate 
with Brahmans (Manu, ii. 36-40). 

Members of the kindred Parsee religion become responsible 
human beings after they have been girt with the kosti, or 
sacred girdle. The. age at which this took place was formerly 
fifteen; and after they had once put them on, the Parsees 
might not remove their girdles, except in bed, without incur- 
ring serious guilt. This regulation applied equally to both 
sexes. Modern usage has advanced the investiture with the 
kosti to a much earlier period. It takes place in India at 
seven, and in Kirman at nine. In India, the child is held 
responsible in the eighth or tenth year for one half of its sins, 
the parents bearing the burden of the other half (A v., vol. i. p. 
9; vol. ii. pp. 21., 22). 

The young Jew "is looked upon as a man" at the age of 
thirteen, and is then bound " to observe all the command- 
ments of the law." At this age he becomes "Bar-mizva," or a 



RITES AT PUBERTY. 75 

son of the law; that is, he enters on his spiritual majority 
(Picard, vol. i. ch. x. p. 82). Christian nations signalize the 
advent of the corresponding epoch by admitting those who 
attain it to the Sacrament of the Lord's supper, and to confir- 
mation. At puberty they are considered, like the young Par- 
sees, responsible for the sins which at their birth their sponsors 
took upon themselves, and at puberty they are admitted, like 
the Jews, to the full privileges of their faith, by being allowed 
to partake in the mystic benefits conferred by the celebration 
of the death of Christ in the Holy Communion. 

After puberty the two sexes enter on a new relation towards 
one another; and though the instinct by which this relation is 
established is extremely apt to break loose from the control of 
religion, yet the latter always attempts more or less energeti- 
cally to bring it within its grasp. This it does by confining the 
irregular indulgences to which the sexual passion is prone 
within the legalized forms of matrimony. To matrimony, and 
matrimony alone, it gives its sanction; and accordingly it con- 
fers a peculiar sacredness upon this form of cohabitation, by 
the performance of ceremonies at its outset. Such ceremonies 
are not indeed equally universal with those of birth and 
puberty. Among savage and slightly civilized communities we 
do not find them. But in all the great religions of the world 
they are firmly established. 

Little of a distinctively religious character is perceptible in 
Major Forbes's account of marriage rites in the island of Cey- 
lon. Yet it is plain that Singhalese marriages do stand under 
a religious sanction, for in the first place an astrologer must 
examine the horoscopes of the two parties, to discover whether 
they correspond, and then the same functionary is called upon 
to name an auspicious time for the wedding. On the ;3ay of 
its occurrence a feast is given at the bride's house, and "on the 
astrologer notifying that the appointed moment is approaching, 
a half-ripe cocoa-nut, previously placed near the board with 
some mystical ceremonies, is cloven in two at one blow " (E. Y., 
vol. i. p. 326-332). 

Turning from southern to northern Buddhism, we find Kop- 
pen asserting that in Thibet and the surrounding countries, 
marriage consists solely in the private contract, yet adding that 



76 CONSECEATED ACTIONS. 

none the less the lamaist clergy find business to do in regard 
to engagements and weddings. The priests alone know whether 
the nativity of the bride stands in a favorable relation to that 
of the bridegroom, and if not, by what ceremonies and sacri- 
fices misfortune may be averted; they alooe know the day that 
is most suitable and propitious for the wedding; they give the 
bond its consecration and its blessing by burning incense and 
by prayer (K. B., vol. ii. p. 321). 

The Code of Manu is not very clear as to the sort of mar- 
riages sanctioned by religion ; some irregular connections appar 
ently receiving a formal recognition, though regarded with 
moral disapprobation. The system of caste, moreover, intro- 
duces a confusing element, since the nuptial rites are permitted, 
by some authorities, to become less and less solemn as the 
grade of the contracting parties becomes lower. This opinion 
having been mentioned, however, the legislator adds, that "in 
this Code, three of the five last [forms of marriage] are held 
legal, and two illegal: the ceremonies of Pisachas and Asuras 
must never be performed." Of the two prohibited forms, the 
first^is merely an embrace when the damsel is asleep, drunk, or 
of disordered intellect; the second is when the bride's family, 
and the bride herself, have been enriched by large gifts on the 
part of the bridegroom. Strangely enough, this regulation does 
not exclude the marriage called Gandharva, which is *' the recip- 
rocal connection of a youth and a damsel, with mutual desire," 
and is "contracted for the purpose of amorous embraces, and 
proceeding from sexual inclination." Nor does it forbid forcible 
capture. But a little further on, the code encourages the more 
regular modes of marrying by promising intelligent, beautiful, 
and virtuous sons to those who observe them ; and threatening 
those who do not with bad and cruel sons. It is then stated 
that "the ceremony of joining hands is appointed for those who 
marry women of their own class, but with women of a different 
class " certain ceremonies, enumerated in the Code, aie to be 
performed (Manu, iii. i. 44). It is probable that this Code was 
never actually the law of any part of India; but it is none the 
less interesting to see the legislator striving to bring the law- 
less passions with which he is dealing under the supervision of 
religion. 



Hll'ES AT MARRIAGE. 77 

An elaborate blessing and exhortation, beginning with the 
words "In the name of God," is appointed in the Zend-Avesta 
for the nuptial ceremonial. "While marriages among Jews and 
Christians are, as is well known, inaugurated by solemn relig- 
ious rites, and all unions not thus consecrated are, at least by 
the formal judgment of their respective creeds, pronounced un- 
holy, sinful, and impure. 

Death, like marriage, is held among all religions but the 
lowest to call for the performance of befitting rites. In these 
it is usually noticeable that much regard is paid to the manner 
in which the deceased is placed in the grave, this circumstance 
indicating as a general rule some form of the belief in his con- 
tinued existence. Thus, Lieut.-Colonel Collins, describing the 
burial of a boy in New South Wales, observes that "on laying 
the body in the grave, great care was taken so to place it that 
the sun might look at it as it passed, the natives cutting down 
for that purpose every shrub that could obstruct the view. He 
was placed on his right side, with his head to the N. W. (N. S. 
W., p. 387-390). 

If there is little trace among the rude population of this 
colony of a religious ceremony at the interment, we find the 
position of religion distinctly recognized by the natives of some 
parts of Africa. Oldendorp tells us of the tribes with which he 
was acquainted, that the funeral rites are performed by the 
priests, who are richly rewarded for the service. Not only are 
animals sacrificed at the graves, but in the case of men of 
rank their wives and servants are (as is well known) slaughtered 
to attend them (G. d. M,, p. 313-317). In Sierra Leone, where 
"every town or village, which has been long inhabited, has a 
common burial-place," there is the usual attention to position 
in the grave. "The head of the corpse, if a man, lies either 
east or west; if a woman, it is turned either to the north or 
south. An occasional prayer is pronounced over the grave, im- 
porting a wish that God may receive the deceased, and that no 
harm may happen to him." Moreover, there is a ceremony 
which appears to be a sort of sacrifice to the manes. "A fowl 
is fastened by the leg upon the grave, and a little rice placed 
near it; if it refuse to eat the rice, it is not killed; but if it 
eat, the head is cut off, and the blood sprinkled upon the grave ; 



78 CONSECRATED ACTIONS. 

after which it is cooked, and a part placed on the grave, the 
remainder being eaten by the attendants." A tribe called the 
Soosoos "bury their dead with their faces to the west (S. L., 
vol. i. pp. 238, 239). 

Sometimes we meet with the opinion that the entire removal 
of the deceased from his accustomed place of abode on earth 
depends upon due attention to the rites of interment. A primi- 
tive form of this wide-spread belief— which lingers as a survi- 
val even in Christendom — is observable in Polynesia. In Samoa, 
"in order to secure the admission of a departed spirit to future 
joys, the corpse was dressed in the best attire the relatives 
could provide, the head was wreathed with flowers, and other 
decorations were added. A pig was then baked whole, and 
placed upon the body of the deceased, surrounded by a pile of 
vegetable food." The corpse is then addressed by a near rela- 
tion, who desires it with the property thus bestowed to make 
its way into "the palace of Tiki," and not to return to alarm 
the survivors. If nothing happened within a few days, the de- 
ceased was supposed to have got in ; but a cricket being heard 
on the premises was taken as an ill omen, and led to the repe- 
tition of the offering. 

Elsewhere in the same group of islands " more costly sacri- 
fices " were presented to the gods of the celestial regions. At 
least at the interment of a chief it was customary for his wives 
to sit down severally near his body, to be strangled, and then 
buried along with him. " The reasons assigned for this are, that 
the spirit of the chief may not be lonely in its passage to the 
invisible world, and that by such an offering its happiness may 
be at once secured " (N. M. E. pp. 145, 146). 

Funeral ceremonies in Mexico were performed by priests and 
monks, and varied in splendor according to the rank of the de- 
ceased. Offices were chanted at the graves, and at the burial 
of persons of quality slaves were killed to serve them in the 
next world. Moreover, so sensible were the Mexicans to the 
importance of religion in all states of being, that even the do- 
mestic chaplain was not omitted; a priest being slaughtered to 
accompany his lord in that capacity (H. I., b. v. ch. viii). 

In Ceylon, a dying relative is taken to a detached apartment, 
where he is placed with his head towards the East. After death 



EITES AT MARRIAGE. 79 

the body is turned with the head towards the "West, and in the 
grave this position is preserved. Bodies of priests, and persons 
of the highest rank, are burned, and during the process of cre- 
mation the officiating priest "repeats certain forms of praj^er." 
The same functionary returns to deliver "some moral admoni- 
tions " after seven days, when the friends revisit the pyre to 
collect the ashes (E. Y., pp. 334, 335). 

Notwithstanding the fact that in countries professing the 
lamaistic form of Buddhism dead bodies are unceremoniously 
exposed to the open air, and left as a prey to birds or dogs, the 
mortality of the laity "forms, with their sicknesses, the richest 
source of income for the priests." A great deal, says the author 
from whom we draw this information, depends on the separa- 
tion of soul and body taking place according to rule; and it is 
important that the spirit should not injure those who are left, 
and should meet with a happy re-birth. The Lama therefore 
attends the death-bed, takes care to place the deceased in the 
correct position, and observes the hour of departure. An opera- 
tion is then performed on the skin of the head, which is sup- 
posed to liberate the soul. What rites are now to be perform- 
ed, how the body is to be disposed of, towards what quarter 
it is to bo turned, and various other details, depend on astro- 
logical combinations known only to the clergy. But their most 
important and profitable business is the repetition of masses, 
for the dead, which are designed to pacify the avenging deities, 
and to help the soul towards as favorable a career as is pos- 
sible for it. The length of time during which these masses are 
said varies with the wealth of the survivors; poor people ob- 
taining them for a few days only; the richer classes for seven 
weeks; and princes being able to assist the spirits of their rela- 
tions for a whole year (E. B., vol. ii. p. 323-325). 

Among the Parsees the cemeteries consist of desolate, open 
places, on which the corpses are deposited and left exposed to 
the air. These places are called Dakhmas, and are carefully 
consecrated by the priests with an elaborate ceremonial. The 
position of the dead in the Dakhmas is fixed by the religious 
law. Their dying moments and those that succeed upon death 
are watched over by the Parsee faith, which has determined 
the prayers to be repeated during the last hour of life; before 



80 CONSECRATED ACTIONS. 

the body is placed upon the bier ; when it is carried out ; on 
the way to the Dakhma, and at the Dakhma itself. The cere- 
monies required on these occasions must be performed by the 
Maubads, or priests. But the due disposal of the body by no 
means concludes the duties of relations towards the dead. The 
welfare of the soul also demands numerous prayers. Being 
supposed to linger for three days in the immediate neighbor- 
hood of the corpse, it is the object during that time of especial 
attention, and the rites then performed may be of use to it in 
the judgment which takes place on the fourth day. Prayers 
are to be recited, and offerings made on the 30th and 31st day 
after death, and even then the ceremonies attending the close 
of mortal existence are not concluded, for it is necessary after 
the lapse of a year ^gain to celebrate the memory of the de- 
parted. Moreover, the 26th chapter of the Yasna, a hymn of 
praise and blessing, is to be said every day during the year 
before eating (Av. vol. ii. p. xxxii.-xlii). 

Masses for the dead are no less common in Christian coun- 
tries (save where the Protestant faith is professed), than among 
Buddhists and Parsees. Their object also is precisely the same; 
namely, the welfare of the soul which has quitted its earthly 
home to enter on a new form of being. And although no such 
prayers are repeated in Protestant communities, yet there can 
be no doubt that interment in due form, and with due solem- 
nity, is held by the people, even in England, to benefit the 
soul in some undefined way. Nor is any portion of the ritual 
of the English Church more impressive than that passage in the 
Burial Service where the officiating priest consigns ** earth 
to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust, in sure and certain hope 
of the resurrection to eternal life, through our Lord Jesus 
Christ." 

But it is not only the due performance of these last rites 
which popular opinion associates with the prospect of salvation 
in the world to come. As in other religions, so in that of our 
own country, the position of the body in the tomb is deemed 
to be of vast importance. The head must be westward and the 
feet eastward, the nominal reason being that the dead person 
should rise from his temporary abode with his face to the cast, 
whence Christ will come ; the real reason being in all probabil- 



RITES AT DEATH. 81 

ity the survival of a much older custom, in which that venera- 
ble divinity, the Sun, stood in the place of the Savior of man- 
kind. 



CHAPTER II. 

CONSECBATED PLACES. 

Consecrated actions of various kinds being the primary 
method of approaching the beings in whose honor they are 
performed, there remain various secondary methods ; sometimes 
tending to heighten the effect of the primary method, some- 
times supplementing it. These secondary means of giving effect 
to the religious sentiment may be divided into three classes : — 
the consecration of places, of things, and of persons; while the 
last of these falls into two subdivisions: the self-dedication of 
certain individuals to their deity, and the dedication of a certain 
class to the more special performance of religious services on 
behalf of the community. 

Consecration of places evidently confers on the actions per- 
formed within them a higher sanctity. Prayer offered in a place 
which has been devoted to the service of God is more likely to 
be successful. Praise from within its walls will be more accept- 
able. Wedlock contracted under its influence will be more sol- 
emn, and will possess a more binding character. Children may 
most fitly enter upon life by a profession of faith made in their 
behalf in a consecrated temple. And the bodies of the dead 
will rest more peacefully in consecrated earth. 

It is scarcely needful to offer evidence of the fact that in 
various lands, and by many kinds of belief, the performance of 
certain ceremonies is held to consecrate places to the purpose 
of communication between man and the higher powers. From 
the savage in Sierra Leone, where " a small shed of dry leaves" 
presents perhaps the rudest form of temple to be found on 
earth (S. L., p. 65), to the European who worships his God in 
St. Peter's or Westminster Abbey, the same opinion prevails. 
Everywhere the consecration of places is conceived to render 

82 



^ SOLOMON'S TEMPLE. 83 

them fitter for the celebration of religious rites, and unfit for 
all profaner uses. 

Of the state of feeling with which such localities are endowed 
by the ordinary worshiper, an excellent example is offered in 
Solomon's speech at the dedication of the temple. He specially 
requests Jehovah that when prayers are made to him in this 
place, or toward this place, he will hear such prayers : that is, 
he expects that the sanctity he will confer upon the temple, by 
devoting it to Jehovah, will add something to the efficacy of 
petitions in which it is in some way concerned. The manner 
in which he dedicates the temple may serve, too, as a type of 
this kind of ceremony. "Solomon," we are told, "offered a 
sacrifice of peace-offerings, which he offered unto the Lord, two- 
and-twenty thousand oxen, and an hundred and twenty thou- 
sand sheep." With this barbaric magnificence he "dedicated 
the house of the Lord," and he subsequently hallowed the 
middle of the court by "burnt-offerings, and meat-offerings, 
and the fat of the peace-offerings" (1 Kings viii). How great 
was the respect attached to this temple by the Israelites, and 
how anxiously they sought to guard it against such profanation 
as it received at the hands of Pompey, is well known. 

The lavish splendor with which Solomon adorned his temple 
is a common feature of consecrated places. Like the ancient 
Hebrews, the Mexicans and Peruvians had buildings in honor 
of their gods, of extreme magnificence. The temple of Pachac- 
amac, or the Creator, in Peru, was a very large and ancient 
building, richly decorated, which was found to contain an 
immense wealth of gold and silver vessels (H. I., b. v., chs. iii., 
xii). The boundless munificence with which pious Christians 
have sought to beautify their places of worship needs no de- 
scription. Along with the more formal consecration given to 
such sanctuaries of the Most High by special rites, they have 
sought to render them more worthy of his habitation by the 
liberality displayed in their erection and embellishment. 



CHAPTER III 



CONSECRATED OBJECTS. 



Besides consecration of places to religious uses, material 
things may be consecrated to the deity worshiped by those 
who thus apply them. These things may be of the most varied 
description, from common objects of the most trifling value, to 
those of the utmost possible estimation. Among consecrated 
objects are the furniture of temples or churches, which is 
reserved for divine service ; the garments worn by priests in 
their liturgical functions; the votive tablets in which men 
record their gratitude for preservation in danger; pictures, 
statues, endowments of land for monasteries or^ the support of 
ecclesiastical offices; and anything else which the owners may 
part with from pious motives, and with the view of bestowing 
it entirely on their god or his vicegerents on earth. 

Such consecrated objects were seen in abundance by Lieu- 
tenant Matthews in Sierra Leone, where the natives devoted 
them to the idols who reigned in the small sheds of dry leaves 
mentioned in the preceeding chapter. The offerings made by 
the natives to these superhuman beings consisted of "bits of 
cloth, pieces of broken cups, plates, mugs, or glass bottles, 
brass rings, beads, and such articles." But a still more prec- 
ious object was bestowed upon these gods by the people when 
they wished to render them particularly complaisant. Then 
'* they generally provide liquor," of which they make a very 
small libation to the object of their petitions and drink the 
rest. Moreover, they have also little genii, or household gods, 
consisting of images of wood from eight to twelve inches long, 
to whom they consecrate certain things. These might be of a 
very miscellaneous order. There might be seen, for instance, 
*'a brass pan fastened to the stump of a tree by driving a 

84 



FRUIT. - 85 

country axe through it— a glass bottle set up on the stump of 
a tree — a broken bottle placed upon the ground with two or 
three beads in it, covered with a bit of cloth, and surrounded 
with stones — a rag laid upon small sticks and covered with a 
broken calabash," and so forth. As in more civilized countries, 
the sanctity conferred upon the objects by religion places 
them under the special protection of the law. " To remove one 
of them even unknowingly," continues the author, *' is a great 
offense, and subjects the aggressor to a palaver, or action in 
their courts of law" (S. L., p. 65-67). The Tartar chiefs, as 
described by the traveler Carpin, kept idols in their places of 
abode, to whom they offered not only the first milk of their 
ewes and mares, and something of all they ate, but to whom 
they even consecrated horses. After this dedication to the idol 
no one might mount these horses (Bergeron, Voyage de Carpin, 
p. 30). Among the Singhalese a curious mode prevails of conse- 
crating fruit to some demon, in order to prevent its being 
stolen. "A band of leaves" is to be seen fastened around the 
stem of a fruit-tree, and it is supposed that no thief will be so 
sacrilegious as to touch the fruit that has been thus hallowed. 
"Occasionally," says Sir Emerson Tennent, "these dedications 
are made to the temples of Buddha, and even to the Eoman 
Catholic altars, as to that of St. Anne of Calpentyn. This cere- 
mony is called Gokbandeema, 'the tying of the tender leaf,' 
and its operation is to prevent the fruit from pillage, till ripe 
enough to be plucked and sent as an offering to the divinity to 
whom it has thus been consecrated." He adds, that a few only 
of the finest are offered, the rest being kept by the owner (Cey- 
lon, vol. i. p. 540, 3d ed). Another author, describing the same 
custom, says, *' To prevent fruit being stolen, the people hang 
up certain grotesque figures around the orchards and dedicate 
it to the devils, after which none of the native Ceylonese will 
dare even to touch the fruit on any account. Even the owner 
will not venture to use it, till it be first liberated from the 
dedication. IJor this purpose, they carry some of itto the 
pagoda, where the priests, after receiving a certain proportion 
for themselves, remove the incantations with which it was dedi- 
cated" (A. I. C, p. 198). Here the consecration, contrary to 
the usual rule, is made with an interested motive, and is of the 



86 CONSECRATED OBJECTS. 

nature of a direct bargain foi* temporal advantages. Of the 
common form of consecration among the same people, another 
visitor gives evidence; their temples are, he says, "adorned 
with such things as the people's ability and poverty can afford ; 
accounting it the highest point of devotion, bountifully to dedi- 
cate such things unto their gods, which in their estimation are 
most precious tA. R. C, p. 73). 

Sometimes consecration is held to confer special powers, not 
otherwise posses ed, upon the objects on which it is performed. 
Thus, among the rude Mongolians, the consecrating rites to 
which sacred writings and images of Buddha are subjected are 
described by a word meaning to animate, which is held by a 
learned Orientalist to express their sense of the communication 
of living power, of which the religious ceremony is the vehicle 
(G. O. M., p. 330). Thus, too, among Christians, the consecra- 
tion of bread and wine by a priest is regarded as the means of 
a still more extraordinary communication of living power to 
those lifeless elements. And the writer has been present* at the 
Vatican when a vast number of rosaries, and other such trink- 
ets, were held up by a crowd of devotees to receive the Papal 
blessing, which was evidently considered, by their owners, to 
confer upon them some kind of virtue that was otherwise 
lacking. 

Naturally it follows from the theory of consecration — which 
is that of a gift from men to God — that the more valuable the 
objects given, the more pleasing will they be. Hence, men 
generally endeavor to consecrate valuable objects, though 
instances to the contrary may be found. The horses bestowed 
by the Tartars were, no doubt, among their most precious pos- 
sessions. And the large endowments of land devoted in per- 
petuity to the Church during the middle ages, were gifts of the 
most permanent and most coveted form of property. 

Consecration differs from sacrifice, in that the objects of sac- 
rifice are intended for the immediate gratification of the deity, 
those of consecration for his continued use. Hence, things sac- 
rificed are consumed upon the spot ; things consecrated are pre- 
served as long as their nature permits of it. So strong is the 
sense of permanence attaching to consecration, that there are 
probably even now persons among us, who would regard it as 



PERMANENCE OF CONSECRATION. 87 

a sort of crime for the State to assume the ownership of lands 
once devoted to religious purposes, or to divert the proceeds to 
some other employment. A like sentiment, no doubt, prevails 
with regard to the material and the furniture of places of wor- 
ship. With regard to sacrifice the case is different. Animals, 
fruits, or other articles intended for sacrifice, are given to the 
god or his representative for the single occasion, and as a 
requisite in the performance of some momentary rite. If a 
homely comparison may be permitted on so sacred a subject, it 
might be not inaptly said, that things sacrificed are like the 
meat and drink placed before a guest who is invited to dinner, 
while things consecrated rather resemble the present which he 
carries away to his own residence, and keeps for the remainder 
of his life. 



CHAPTER IV. 



CONSECBATED PERSONS. 



f^E have it 6^.1 the religious instinct leading to the consecra- 
tiv a of actions, vk) the consecration of places, and to the conse- 
cration of thing^^ "We are now to follow it in a yet more strik- 
ing exhibition of its power, the consecration by human beings 
of their own lives and their own persons (or sometimes of the 
lives and persons of their children). Not only is such self-dedi- 
cation to the service of religion common; it is well-nigh uni- 
versal. There is no phenomenon more constant, none more 
uniform, than this. Differing in minor details, the grand fea- 
tures of self-consecration are everywhere the same, whether we 
look to the saintly Eishis of ancient India; to the wearers of 
the yellow robe in China or Ceylon ; to the Essenes among the 
Jews; to the devotees of Vitziliputzli in pagan Mexico; or to 
the monks and nans of Christian times in Africa, in Asia, and 
in Europe. Throughout the various creeds of these distant lands 
there runs the same unconquerable impulse, producing the same 
remarkable effects. This is not the place to attempt a psycho- 
logical explanation of asceticism as a tendency of human na- 
ture. We have now only to notice some of its most conspicu- 
ous manifestations, and thus to assign to it its proper place in 
a history of the mode in which man endeavors to approach and 
to propitiate his god. 

Generally speaking, we may premise that the consecration of 
individuals to a life in which religion is the predominating ele- 
ment, means the abandonment of the ordinary pleasures of the 
world. This is of the very essence of self-devotion. Sanctity, 
and the enjoyment of all those things in which the body is 
largely concerned, have always been regarded as inconsistent 
and opposite. Hence, in the first line of things prohibited to 



NATURE OF SELF-CONSECRATION. 89 

consecrated persons, we always discover the pleasures of sex. 
To indulge in these is usually considered the most flagrant out- 
rage against their rules. Next to sexual delights, or equally 
with them, the luxuries of choice food, rich clothing, comfort- 
able beds, well-furnished rooms, and similar ministrations to 
physical ease are withheld from the votaries. They are very 
frequently voluntary paupers or mendicants ; or where this is 
not the case, they usually depend on some endowment derived 
from the liberality of others. "Where their numbers are large, 
they are placed under rules, and bound to the strictest obedi- 
ence to their superiors in the same line of life. Moreover, mere 
abstinence from ordinary pleasures is not enough to prove their 
devotion ; they are called on to undergo extraordinary pains- 
These vary with the rule of the order, or their own fervor. 
Sometimes they are obliged to live in rooms which, in the cold- 
est weather, no fire is permiited to cheer; sometimes their 
sleep is broken by rising at unseasonable hours to worship theit 
deity; sometimes the garment they wear is too thick in sum- 
mer, and too scanty in winter ; and sometimes they tear their 
own flesh by scourging and flagellation. Fasting, too, is often 
imposed at certain times. And the zeal of individuals always 
outruns the compulsory hardships of their position. They will 
show the intensity of their devotion by fasting more rigorously 
than others, sleeping on harder couches, bearing greater inflic- 
tions. Self-consecration continually tends towards greater and 
greater self-denial; but the actual degrees of self denial vary 
from the mere observance of some simple rules to the extremest 
possibility of self-torture. Confining ourselves, however, to the 
general marks which characterize this devotion of persons to 
religion, we may say that it involves principally two things : 
chastity and poverty. 

When the Spaniards had established themselves in Mexico 
and Peru, they were astonished to find, in the religious cus- 
toms and practices of the new world they had invaded, so much 
that resembled those of the old world they had left behind. 
Especially was this the case with regard to monastic institu- 
tions, in respect of which it seemed that the Christian mission- 
aries had little to teach their heathen brothers. "Certainly it 
is a matter of surprise," says the Eeverend Father Acosta, "that 



90 CONSECEATED PERSONS. 

false religious opinion should have so much power with those 
young men and young women of Mexico, that they should do 
with such austerity in the service of Satan that which many of 
us do not do in the service of the most high God. Which is a 
great confusion to those who are very proud and very well satis- 
fied with some trifling penance which they perform " (H. I., b. 5, 
oh. 16, sub fine). In describing more particularly the manner in 
which the devil had contrived to be served in Mexico, he states 
that around the great temple there were two monasteries, one 
of young women and the other of young men, whom they 
called monks (rellgiosos). Those young men who served in the 
temple of Vitziliputzli lived in poverty, chastity, and obedience ; 
ministered like Levites to the priests and dignitaries of the 
temple, and had manual labor to do. Besides these were others 
who performed menial services, and carried the offerings that 
were made when their superiors went in quest of alms. All 
these had persons who took charge of them, and when they 
went abroad they held their heads low and their eyes on the 
ground, not daring to raise them to look at the women they 
might come across. Should they not receive enough by way of 
alms, they had the right of going to the sown fields, and pluck- 
ing the ears of corn of which they had need. They practised 
penance, rising at midnight, and also cutting themselves so as 
to draw blood ; but this exercise and penance did not last more 
than a year (H. I., b. 5, ch. 16). 

Both in Mexico and in Peru young girls were consecrated to 
a religious life, but this consecration was sometimes only tem- 
porary ; a certain proportion of the Peruvian nuns being drafted 
off into the harem of the Inca. Acosta, describing this conse- 
cratioir of virgins, is again impressed with the abilities of the 
devil. Since, he observes, the religious life is so pleasing in the 
eyes of God, the father of lies has contrived, not only to imi- 
tate it, but to cause his ministers to be distinguished in auster- 
ity and regularity. Thus in Peru there were many convents for 
girls, who were placed under the tuition of old women whom- 
they called Mamaconas. Indoctrinated by the Mamaconas in 
"various things necessary for human life, and in the rites and 
ceremonies of their gods," they were removed, after they had 
attained fourteen years, either to the sanctuaries where they 



RELIGIOUS ORDEES. 91 

preserved a perpetual virginity, or to be sacrificed in some 
religious ceremonial, or to become wives and mistresses of the 
Inca and his friends. The consecration of these damsels was 
not, as usual in such cases, voluntary on their part, but the 
same idea of merit inspired the gift on the part of those who 
made it. For, while the surrender of female children to the 
monastery was compulsory when demanded by an officer named 
the *' Appopanaca," yet "many offered their girls of their own 
free will, it appearing to them that they gained great merit, 
inasmuch as they were sacrificed for the Inca." If any of the 
older nuns, who presided over the children, had sinned against 
her honor, she was invariably buried alive or subjected to some 
other cruel death. 

**In Mexico," continues the pious Jesuit, "the devil also 
found his own kind of nuns, although the profession did not 
last more than one year." As has been said, there were two 
houses, one for men and another for women. Like the monks, 
the nuns also wore a distinctive costume, and dressed their 
hair in a distinctive fashion. Like them, they had manual 
labor to -perform; like them, they rose at midnight for matins. 
They had their abbesses, who occupied them in making robes 
for the adornment of the idols. They also had their penance, 
in which they cut themselves in the points of the ears. They 
lived with honor and circumspection, and any delinquency, 
even the smallest, was punished with death ; for they said that 
the sinner had violated the honor of their god (H. I., b. 5, ch. 15). 

Another author, describing the religious orders of Peru, 
states that fathers, anxious that their children's lives should be 
preserved, used to dedicate them in infancy to some form of 
monastic establishment, to which they were actually committed 
at the age of fifteen. If, for instance, they were promised- to 
the house of Calmecac, it was that they might perform pen- 
ance, and serve the gods, and live in purity and humility and 
chastity, and be altogether preserved from carnal vices. A 
Christian parent could have desired no more. "And if it were 
a woman, she was a servant of the temple called Civatlamacaz- 
qui; she had to be subject to the women who governed that 
order; she had to live in chastity, and abstain from every car- 
nal act, and to live with the virgins who were called tJte sisters,'* 



92 CONSECRATED PERSONS. 

who were shut up in the convent. A feast was made when the 
child was dedicated by its parents, and the head of the order 
took it in his arms in token that it was his subject till it was 
married; the consecration not being perpetual. Its reception 
was accompanied by a solemn ceremonial, in which the follow- 
ing prayer was offered to their god: "O Lord, most merciful, 
protector of all, here stand thy handmaidens, who bring thee a 
new handmaid, whose father and mother promise and offer her, 
that she may serve thee. And well thou knowest that, the poor 
thing is thine : vouchsafe to receive her, that for a few days 
she may sweep and adorn thy house, which is a house of pen- 
ance and weeping, where the daughters of the nobles place 
their hand on thy riches, praying and weeping to thee with 
tears and great devotion, and where they demand with prayers 
thy words and thy power. Vouchsafe, O Lord, to show her 
grace, and to receive her: place her, O Lord, in the company 
of the virgins who are called Tlamacazque, who do penance and 
serve in the temple, and wear their hair short. O Lord, most 
merciful, protector of all, vouchsafe to do with her whatever is 
thy holy will, showing her the grace which thou knowest to be 
suited to her." If then the girl was of age, she was marked in 
the ribs and breast, in evidence of her being a nun ; and if she 
was still a child, a string of beads was put round her neck, 
which she wore until she could fulfil the vow of her parents (A. 
M., vol. V. p. 484-486). 

But in addition to these temporary nuns, Peru had others, 
whose vows were perpetual. Yega relates in his Commentaries, 
that besides the women who entered into monasteries to profess 
perpetual virginity, there were many women of the blood-royal 
who lived in their own houses, subject to a vow of virginity, 
though not in "clausura.'* They went out to visit their rela- 
tions on various occasions. They were held in the greatest 
respect for their chastity and purity, which was by no means 
feigned, but altogether genuine. Any failure to observe their 
vow was punished by burning or drowning. The writer knew 
one of these women when advanced in life, and occasionally 
saw her when she visited his mother, whose great-aunt she 
was. He bears witness himself to the profound veneration with 
which this old lady was everywhere received, the place of honor 



BELIGIOUS ORDERS. 93 

being always assigned to her, as well by his mother as by her 
other acquaintances (C. R., b. 4, ch. 7). Thus we find celibacy, 
as a mark of piety, in full force in the new world at the time 
of its discovery, no less than in the old; and religious chastity 
as much respected by the idolatrous Mexicans and Peruvians as 
by their Catholic invaders. 

Monasticism, in countries where Buddhism reigns supreme, 
is a vast and powerful institution. In the early times of Budd- 
histic fervor, it would almost seem from the language of the 
legends, that to embrace the faith of Sakyamuni and to become 
an ascetic were one and the same thing. At least every convert 
who aspired to be not only a hearer, but a doer of the word, 
is described as instantly assuming the tonsure and the yellow 
robe. At the same time the distinction between Bhikshus, 
mendicants, and Upasakas, laymen, is no doubt an early one; 
and we must assume, that as soon as the religion of the gentle 
ascetic began to spread among the people at large, those whose 
circumstances did not permit them to be monks or nuns were 
received on easier terms. "What," asked a disciple, "must be 
done in the condition of a mendicant? " — "The rules of chas- 
tity must be observed during the whole of life.*' "That is im- 
possible; is there no other way?" — "There is another, friend; 
it is to be a pious man (Upasaka)." "What is there to be done 
in this condition?" — "It is necessary to abstain during the 
whole of life from murder, theft, pleasure (the illicit pleasures 
of sex must be understood), lying, and the use of intoxicat- 
ing liquors" (H. B. I., p. 281). To these five commandments, 
binding on every Buddhist, the rule imposed upon the mendi- 
cants adds five more, to say nothing of many more special obli- 
gations and regulations to which they are subject. Murder, 
theft, unchastity, lying, and drinking, are forbidden to them as 
to all others; the sixth commandment prohibits eating after 
mid-day; the seventh singing, dancing, and playing musical 
instruments ; the eighth adorning the person with flowers and 
bands, or using perfume and ointment ; the ninth sleeping on 
a high and large bed; the tenth accepting gold and silver. 
These several prohibitions aim, as is evident, at precisely the 
same objects which the founders of Christian orders have 
always had in view; that, namely, of weaning their disciples 



94 CONSECRATED PERSONS. 

from the world by keeping from them the enjoyment of its lux- 
uries, and preventing the acquisition of personal property. 

The obligation to observe the^e rules commenced with the 
novitiate; a condition which, in Buddhist as in Catholic com- 
munities, precedes that of complete ordination. The novices 
are termed Sramanera, a word meaning little Sramanas, while 
the monks themselves are either Sramana or Bhikshu. Both 
these designations serve to express the nature of their vocation ; 
Sramana being "an ascetic who subdues his senses," and 
Bhikshu ''one who lives by alms " (H. B. I., pp. 275, 276). The 
sisters are called Bhikshuni, and they are said to owe their 
origin to Maha Prajapati, the aunt of the great Sramana Gaut- 
ama, who obtained from her nephew, through the intercession 
of the beloved disciple Ananda, the permission for her sex to 
follow their brothers in the way of salvation by poverty and 
chastity (Ibid., p. 278). 

There can be no question that, according to the original 
practice of the mendicant orders, the vow was taken for life; 
and this is, I believe, still the custom in most of the lands 
where Buddhism is in the ascendant. But in Siam, the monas- 
tic vow can at any time be cancelled by the superior of the 
monastery; and this rule, which involves a gross abuse of the 
original institution, renders temporary asceticism universal in 
that country (Wheel, p. 45). Another kind of degeneracy has 
occurred in Nepaul, where the ministers of religion, who else- 
where must be monks, are permitted to be married (Hodgson, 
T.E.A.S., vol. ii. p. 245). 

The objects proposed to themselves by Buddhists, in embrac- 
ing an ascetic life, are precisely the same as those proposed to 
themselves by Christians. By denying themselves the pleasures 
of this world, they hope to obtain a higher reward than other 
mortals; whether in the shape of birth in a happier condition, 
or in that of complete emancipation from all birth whatsoever, 
which is the supreme goal of their religion. The means they 
pursue to attain these ends are also similar. The Pratimoksha 
Sutra, or Sutra of Emancipation, which forms the universal 
regula in all their monasteries, is worthy of a St. Benedict or a 
St. Francis. It lays down with the minutest elaboration, not 
only all the moral precepts that must be obeyed by the monk 



ASCETICS. 95 

or nun, but all the little observances in regard to dress, eating, 
walking, social intercourse, and so forth, to which he must 
attend. It contains two hundred and fifty rules, and the breach 
of any of these is attended with its appropriate penance, 
according to the magnitude of the offense. 

Asceticism was deeply rooted in the native land of Buddhism 
long before the appearance of the reformer who gave it, by the 
foundation of communities, an organization and a purpose. 
Just as in Egypt there were many solitary saints before the 
time of Pachomius and Antony, so in India there were holy 
men who had subdued their senses before the gospel of deliv- 
erance was preached by Gautama Buddha. Some of these dis- 
pensed altogether with clothing, a custom which was frowned 
upon by Buddhism and put down wherever its influence was 
paramount. Others lived in lonely places, exposed to every 
sort of hardship and avoiding every form of carnal pleasure. 
The popular mind combined the practice of austerity with the 
acquisition of extraordinary powers over nature. Hence, no 
doubt, an additional motive for its exercise. The Eamayana 
abounds with descriptions of holy hermits, living on roots in 
the forests, and practising the utmost austerity. Visvamitra, 
for example, the very type of an ascetic, was a monarch, who 
determined to obtain from the gods the title of "Brahman saint," 
the highest to which he", not by birth a Brahman, could aspire. 
This was the manner in which he went to work:— 

** His arms upraised, without a rest. 
With but one foot, the earth he pressed; 
The air his food, the hermit stood 
Still as a pillar hewn from wood. 
Around him in the summer days 
Five mighty fires combined to blaze. 
In floods of rain no veil was spread, 
Save clouds, to canopy his head. 
In the dark dews both night and day 
Couched in the stream the hermit lay."* 

Twice did the gods, alarmed at the power he was likely to 
* Griffith. The Bamayan, vol. i. p. 268. 



96 CONSECEATED PEESONS. 

acquire, direct their efforts against his chastity. The first time 
the perfect nymph deputed on this errand, seen by him while 
bathing herself naked in the stream, caused him to forget his 
vow and dally with her for ten years. The second time the 
saint perceived the plot, but allowed himself to burst forth in 
Avords of unholy rage against the damsel who was trying to 
seduce him, and thus lost the merit of his former penance. 
After this he resolved never to speak a word, and persisted in 
his resolution, until the gods, in a body, addressed him in the 
long-desired form: "Hail, Brahman Saint" (Griffith, The 
Kamayan, vol. i. p. 274). 

Visvamitra is of course a mythical character, and his pen- 
ance imaginary; but the ascetic life he is described as leading 
was taken from models which the writers had before their 
eyes. All the marvels of the Thebaid in Christian times were, 
in fact, anticipated in India by at least one thousand years. 

How deeply the ascetic tendency is implanted in human na- 
ture is strikingly shown in the case of the Essenes, the Nazar- 
ites, and the Therapeutse, who sprang from a religion whose 
ostensible precepts are eminently opposed to all such courses, 
that of the Jews. Judaism powerfully encouraged all those in- 
clinations to which monasticism is fatal: the propagation of 
the species, the acquisition of property, the maintenance of 
family ties, and the enjoyment of the good things which this 
world has to offer. Yet from the bosom of this sober faith 
sprang bodies of men who neither ate flesh, nor drank wine, 
nor cohabited with women. It may be that the Jewish ascetics 
were not very numerous ; but it is clear, too, that they were not 
so few as to be deemeed by contemporary observers altogether 
unimportant. And the fascination which John the Baptist, pre- 
eminently an ascetic, exercised over his countrymen in the first 
century, is a sign that this mode of living was conducive among 
the Jews to that spiritual supremacy which is so constantly re- 
ceived at the hands of Christians. 

That Christianity should encourage a disposition which even 
Judaism could not check was no more than might be expected 
from the language and conduct of its founder and his earliest dis- 
ciples. Christ was never married, and probably lived in complete 
chastity. Paul goes so far as to compare marriage unfavorably 



MOTIVES OF SELF-CONSECEATION. 97 

with celibacy. James upholds poverty as preferable to riches in 
the eyes of God. The whole of the New Testament abounds with 
passages in \vhich present misery is declared to be the forerun- 
ner of future happiness, and present prosperity of future suffer- 
ing. This is the very spirit of monasticism, and it is not sur- 
prising that from such a root such fruits have sprung. From a 
very early age devout ChristiaDS have felt that in renouncing 
individual property, marriage, personal freedom, and the vari- 
ous other joys which life in the world offers, they were fulfilling 
the dictates of their religion and preparing themselves for 
heaven. To illustrate this proposition effectually would be to 
write the history of the monastic orders. Beginning in the des- 
erts of Egypt, these have extended throughout Europe, and 
have exercised a vast and potent influence on the extension of 
the Christian faith. Monks have been missionaries, preachers, 
martyrs, persecutors, bishops and popes. The greatest names 
who have ranged themselves under the banner of the Catholic 
Church have belonged to one or other of the several orders. 
And alongside of the monks, living by the same rule, helping 
them in their several tasks, the nuns have ever been forward in 
undergoing their share of austerity and undertaking their 
share of labor. 

Very various have been the immediate motives that have led 
such large numbers of Christians to betake themselves to the 
monastery or the convent. Some have fled from riches and 
luxury ; others from poverty and wretchedness. Some have been 
sick of earthly pleasures ; others have sought to avoid the 
temptation of ever knowing them. Many have been drawn by 
the irresistible spell of asceticism to flee from opposing parents 
and unsympathizing friends in order to embrace it ; others have 
been destined from their infancy, like the Mexican and Peru« 
vian youth, to wear the cowl or to take the veil. But throughout 
the history of every order there has been the same fundamen- 
tal idea sustaining its existence; the idea, namely, that in be- 
coming an ascetic, the person was consecrated to God, and be- 
came by that consecration purer, holier, and better than those 
who continued to pursue the ordinary avocations of secular life. 
This consecration is not given without due solemnity. It is 
only after a novitate, in which he has full experience of the 



98 CONSECRATED PERSONS. 

privations to be undergone, that the candidate can be received 
into the order of which he desires to be a member. Should his 
resolution be unshaken after his year's trial as a novice, he 
may take the irrevocable vow of obedience, under which those 
of poverty and chastity are comprehended. He is now a conse- 
crated person. He has sacrificed himself completely to his 
divine Master, and whatever reward he may hope to receive 
must be given by that Master in a future state. 

It is one of the principal weaknesses of Protestantism that 
it has omitted to provide for the ascetic instinct. It has lost 
thereby the mighty bold which the Catholic Church must ever 
possess over those who feel themselves moved to crucify the 
flesh and devote themselves wholly to spiritual things. Strange 
to say, this remarkable instinct has nevertheless broken out 
afresh within the bosom of Protestantism in recent times. The 
Shakers are but a somewhat novel species of monks and nuns. 
They abstain from marriage though the two sexes live together 
in one community. Their chastity is said to be perfect. They 
give up all individual property for the common good. They 
wear a peculiar dress and are subject to peculiar rules. Lastly, 
they believe that they stand under the special guidance and 
protection of the Holy Spirit, 



CHAPTER V. 



CONSECRATED MEDIATOES. 



Having seen the manner in which individuals devote them- 
selves to the special service of their deities, we have now to 
observe the further fact that a whole class of men is devoted 
to this service by the demands of society. This class is the 
priesthood. They differ from the persons last treat'id of, inas- 
much as the consecration of ascetics has reference exclusively 
to their own personal salvation, while the consecration of priests 
has reference exclusively to the salvation of others. A monk 
or a nun becomes by the act of profession a holier being; less 
occupied with the world; mentally nearer to God; better fitted 
to communicate with him than ordinary unchaste mortals. A 
priest becomes by the act of ordination a being endowed with 
special powers; better entitled to offer up the public prayers 
than others ; more likely to be heard when he does so ; more 
eligible as a channel of communication between men and God 
than unordained • mortals. In other words, his functions are of 
a public, those of the monk of a private, kind. 

We must not be confused by the fact that among Buddhists 
and among Catholics the two species of consecration are no 
longer completely distinct, the monks an both of those great 
religions being at the same time priests. The early writings of 
Buddhism sufficiently evince the fact that no kind of public 
ministry was at first connected with the profession of a mendi- 
cant. He had simply to observe the precepts of his order, and 
to aim at such perfection as ^hould ensure the deliverance of 
his soul. Priestly duties are now indeed performed by monks 
in Buddhist countries, but this is an addition to their regular 
vocation, not a necessary part of it; while, in Catholic countries, 
the ecclesiastical character which the monks at present enjoy 



100 CONSECRATED MEDIATORS. 

ill no way belonged to them when the monastic orders were 
first established. The monks, as Montalembert observes, were 
at first an intermediate body between laity and clergy, in whom 
the latter were to see an ideal which it was not possible for all 
to attain. 'Technically, however, the monks formed a part of 
the laity, and the steps by which they came to be considered 
as the '* regular clergy" are, according to the same high author- 
ity, difficult to follow (M. d'O., vol. i. p. 288; vol. ii. p. 57). 
Self-consecration, and consecration to ecclesiastical duties were 
therefore two very different things, and the distinction between 
regular and secular clergy shows that, though somewhat oblit- 
erated in appearance, the two ideas are still kept apart. 

In all religions that have risen above the rudest stage, those 
who desire to become priests are initiated by certain fixed cere- 
monies. Thus is the consecration given which fits them to 
convey to God the wishes of mortals, and to mortals the will 
of God. To take an example from a very primitive form of 
faith, the "Angekoks," or priests of the Greenlanders, receive 
their commission only after long and exhaustiog rites, in which 
a familiar spirit is supposed to appear to them, and to accom- 
pany them to heaven and hell. Should they fail ten times in 
obtaining the assistance of such a spirit, they are compelled to 
lay down their offices. The spirit, when he comes, holds a con- 
versation with the Angekok, who is thus installed in his pro- 
fession by supernatural means (H. G., p. 253-256). So also, 
among the American tribes in New France, we are told that 
the "Jongleurs" by profession never obtained this character 
till after they had been prepared for it by fasts, which they 
carried to a great extent, and during which they beat the drum, 
cried, shouted, sung and smoked. Their installation was subse- 
quently accomplished in a sort of Bacchanalia, with ceremonies 
of a highly extravagant nature (N. F., vol. iii. p. 363). Among 
a certain tribe of negroes, the priests are taken from a class of 
men termed "living sacrifices" (G. d. M., p. 328), who live at 
the expense of others, taking whatever they require, and who 
wear their hair, like the Nazarites, unshorn. Here their conse- 
cration is marked by these peculiar characteristics, and appears 
to be impressed upon them by some dedication made without 
their own consent. In another negro nation, there is a priestess 



JEWISH AND CHRISTIAN PRIESTS. 101 

of a certain snake, who is marked in a peculiar way over the 
whole body, and held in great esteem. Every year some young 
girls are seized by force and taken to this priestess, who marks 
them artistically, initiates them in religious songs and dances, 
marries them in a manner to the snake, and consecrates them 
as priestesses of that divinity. With others again the priest- 
hood is hereditary, the consecration in this case being imprinted 
once for all on certain families, and not imparted, as in the 
instances given above, by rites affecting only the individual 
who undergoes them. A peculiar modification of the heredi- 
tary principle is where the preference is given to him, among 
-several sons, who dares to pull certain grains (which have been 
previously put in) out of the teeth of his deceased father, and 
place them in the mouth of the corpse. Here 'the consecration 
is partly inherited, partly personal. Elsewhere a priest or 
fetich-maker is made "by all sorts of silly ceremonies at a 
meal," and a string with consecrated objects is hung round his 
neck in token of his condition (G. d. M., p. 328). 

Both principles, the hereditary and the personal, were known 
in Mexico. The priests of Vitziliputzli succeeded by right of 
birth; the priests of other idols by election or by an offering 
made in their infancy. Priests were consecrated to their holy 
office by an unction which, as Father Acosta justly observes, 
resembled that of the Catholic Church. They were annointed 
from head to foot, and the hair was left to hang down in tresses 
moist from the application of the ointment. But when they 
were going to perform the offices of their sacred calling on 
mountains, or in dark caves, they were annointed with an alto- 
gether different substance, compounded by a peculiar process 
from certain venomous reptiles. This was supposed to give 
them courage (H. I., b. 5, ch. 26). 

The consecration of the Levitical priesthood, originally per- 
sonal, descended from father to son, and was moreover confined 
to the members of this single tribe. It could not be repeated 
after its first performance. Hence we have in this case an 
interesting example, not only of an hereditary priesthood, but 
also of the manner in which its exclusive sanctity was supposed 
to have been originally established. Moses, who derived his 
appointment directly from Jehovah, was employed to consecrate 



102 CONSECEATED MEDIATORS. 

Aaron and his sons by means of an elaborate and imposing 
ritual communicated to him by that deity himself. The means 
thus taken (in Jehovah's own words) '*to hallow them, to min- 
ister unto me in the priest's office," were effectual for all time; 
the descendants of Aaron after that being priests by nature. 
How great was the value of the consecration thus given, may 
be seen by the fact that Moses was ordered to threaten the 
penalty of death against any one who should dare to manufac- 
ture oil similar to that used in annointing Aaron and his sons 
(Exod. xxviii. 29; xxx. 30-33). 

Priestly power among Christian nations is communicated in 
a solemn ceremonial, and is conferred only upon the individual 
recipient. It does not descend in his family, but it is capable 
of being imparted by bishops, who have themselves received a 
higher grade of priestly consecration. By some it is actually 
supposed that a mysterious virtue, derived directlv from Christ 
through the apostles, is conveyed to the recipient of holy orders. 
But whether the apostolical succession be conveyed or not in 
the Ordination Service of the Church of England, it is certain 
that a high authority is held to be given to the priest by the 
laying on of the hands of the Bishop and of the other priests 
present at the time. 

The rights which he receives are thus expressed: — 

" Eeceive the Holy Ghost for the office and work of a priest 
in the Church of God, now committed unto thee by the impo- 
sition of our hands. Whose sins thou dost forgive they are for- 
given; and whose sins thou dost retain, they are retained, and 
be thou a faithful dispenser of the Word of God, and of his 
holy sacraments. In the name of the Eather and of the Son, 
and of the Holy Ghost. Amen." 

After this the Bishop delivers the Bible to each of the can- 
didates, saying: — 

"Take thou authority to preach the Word of God, and to 
minister the holy sacraments in the congregation where thou 
shalt be lawfully appointed thereunto." 

Here it may be observed that there are three powers con- 
veyed by this ordination : the power of preaching, the power 
of administering the sacraments, and the power of forgiving 
and retaining sins. Since the salvation of Christians depends 



POWER OF ABSOLUTIO::. 103 

upon their admission to the sacraments, and upon the forgive- 
ness of their sins, it is obvious that the priest who may debar 
them from the one, and refuse the other, receives in his conse- 
cration the keys of the kingdom of heaven. In their communi- 
cations to the Almighty through the mediation of such priests, 
men are in possession of an instrument of tlie very highest 
efficacy. 

The terrible reality which the belief in the ecclesiastical 
privilege of forgiving sins may sometimes have, is graphically 
exhibited in M. de Lamartine's touching poem entitled "Joce- 
lyn." Therein a bishop, taken prisoner and condemned to death 
in the French Kevolution, sends for a young deacon who wa- 
living in concealment in the Alps with a maiden who loved him 
deeply, and whom (since the irrevocable vows of a priest were 
not yet taken) he intended to marry. Eegardless of all his 
pleading the Bishop, under the threat of his dying anathema, 
forces the unhappy youth to receive priestly orders at his hands, 
solely in order that he may then listen to the episcopal confes- 
sion and forgive the episcopal sins. Marriage was now rendered 
impossible by the vow he had taken ; and thus two lives were 
consigned to enduring misery that a bishop might die in peace. 
Surely the morality which could lead to such a consummation 
is self-condemned 1 



EXTEENAL MANIFESTATIONS OF EELIGIOUS 

SENTIMENT. 



SECOND PART. 

MEANS OF COMMUNICATION D0WNWABD8. 



CLASSIFICATION. 

We proceed now from the several methods by which men, in 
all ages and in all countries, have sought to convey their 
wishes, aspirations, and emotions upwards, to those by which 
their several deities have in their opinion conveyed their com- 
mands, decisions, and intentions downwards. The classification 
will follow as closely as the subject permits that of the pre- 
ceding part. Consecration, the quality pertaining to man's in- 
struments of communication wi.h God, will be replaced by 
holiness, the quality pertaining to God's instruments of com- , 
munica;ion with man. Thus, corresponding to the consecrated 
actions of prayer, sacrifice, and praise, we shall have the holy 
events of omens, signs, miracles, and so forth. Corresponding 
to the consecrated places where men pay their devotions, we 
shall find the holy places which some higher being has blessed 
with tokens of his presence. Corresponding to the consecrated 
objects bestowed by the creature on the Creator, we shall dis- 
cover holy objects through which some peculiar grace is con- 
veyed by the Creator to the creature. To consecrated men will 
correspond holy men, who speak to their fellows with aji au- • 
thority higher than their own ; and these holy men will fall 
Into two classes, those whose regular work it is to represent the 
deity on earth and those who are sent on some special occa- 

104 



CLA.SSIPICATION. 105 

sion for some special purpose. Lastly, a separate division 
(having no correlative among means of commmunication up- 
wards) must be given to holy books, for a most important place 
in the history of religions is occupied by treatises written by 
the gods for the use of men. To these then the final chapter 
of this portion of the worii must be devoted. Pass we now to 
holy events. 



CHAPTER I 



HOLY EVENTS. 



Manifold beyond the possibility of complete computation 
are the signs and intimations vouchsafed to the ignorance and 
weakness of man by the celestial powers. They speak to him 
through the ordinary phenomena of nature; they instruct him 
through her rare and more striking exhibitions ; they guide his 
footsteps through prodigies and marvels. Sometimes address- 
ing him spontaneously, without any attempt on his part to 
elicit their intentions, they open their views or announce the 
future ; sometimes replying to his anxious inquiries, they point 
out the truth and relieve his perplexity. Consider first the 
former class of divine manifestations, in which the human 
being is a merely passive recipient of the communication 
granted. 

Dreams are an excellent example of this class of events. The 
belief that they are of supernatural origin is both wide-spread 
and ancient. Possibly there is no country in which it has not 
been held to a greater or less extent, even though it may not 
have formed an article in the established creed. Among the 
Africans in and about Sierra Leone, for example, a dream is 
received as judicial evidence of witchcraft, and the prisoner ac- 
cused on this slender testimony "frequently acknowledges the 
charge and submits to his sentence without repining" (N. A., 
vol. i. p. 260). On the American continent, where dreams (says 
Charlevoix) "are regarded as true oracles and notices from 
heaven" (H. N. F., vol. iii. p. 348), it is plain that the. like faith 
in their intimations prevails. Although explained in a variety 
of ways, now as the rational soul going abroad, while the sen- 
sitive soul remained behind, now as advice from the familiar 
spirits, now as a visit from the soul of the object dreampt of, 

106 



DREAMS. 107 

the dream is always regarded as a sacred thing. It was thought 
to be the most usual way taken by the gods of making their 
wills known to men. Hence they took care to obey the intima- 
tions given in dreams; a savage who had dreamt that his lit- 
tle finger was cut off actually submitting to that operation ; and 
another, who had found himself in his dream a prisoner among 
enemies, getting himself tied to a stake and burnt in various 
parts of the body (H. N. F., vol. iii. pp. 353, 354). The Jews 
have in their ritual a singular ceremony for removing the influ- 
ence of bad dreams. The person who has dreamt something 
which seems to portend evil, is said to choose three friends, and 
standing before them as they sit, to repeat seven times: "A 
good dream have I seen." To which they reply: "A good dream 
thou hast seen ; it is good and shall be good ; the compassion- 
ate God, who is good, make it good." And the conversation 
between the dreamer and the interpreters continues for some 
time, the general effect being to convey God's blessing to the 
former and convert his trouble into gladness. At the end the 
interpreters say: *'Go eat thy bread with joy, and drink thy 
wine with a cheerful heart, for God now accepteth thy works. 
And penitence and prayers and righteousnes will set aside the 
evil that hath been doomed, and peace be unto us and unto all 
Israel, Amen." To this the author of the book appends the 
remark that "the Jews believe that all dreams come to pass 
according to the interpretation that is made of them," for which 
reason they relate their dreams to none but friends (Bel. of 
Jews, p. 71-74). But that they can believe it to be in the power 
of their friends to change the meaning of the dream by an arbi- 
trary interpretation seems scarcely' possible. It may, therefore, 
be the meaning of this passage that an unfavorable interpreta- 
tion is in itself ominous of misfortune, or that they are desir- 
ous not to hear the worst construction that can be put upon a 
dream. 

Belief in the prophetic signification of dreams is not only not 
discountenanced by the Christian religion, but is explicitly 
taught by it. If in the present age this belief has fallen some- 
what out of repute, this is not because there can be any doubt 
that the inspired writers of the Christian Scriptures firmly held 
it, but is a feature of the general relaxation of the bonds of 



108 HOLY EVENTS. 

dogma which characterizes the modern mind. To take a few 
instances : when Abraham had called Sarah his sister, and thus 
permitted the king of Gerar to appropriate her, God himself 
came to Abimelech by night in a dream, and told him that she 
was a married woman (Gen xx. 3). Highly important informa- 
tion as to the future of Lis race was given to Jacob in a dream 
(Gen. xxviii. 11-15). His son Joseph enjoyed an extraordinary 
faculty, not only of dreaming true dreams himself, but also of 
interpreting the dreams of others. It was his own prophetic 
dreams which led to his sale into the hands of the traders by 
his brothers, and it was his power of correct interpretation 
which both freed him from his prison in Egypt, and led to his 
promotion to the high oiOace he afterwards held at the Egyptian 
court (Gen. xxxvii, 5-11; Gen. xl., xli). Moreover, Joseph, who 
must be considered an authority on the subject, expressly 
informed Pharaoh, when that monarch had related his dreams 
that God had showed him w^hat he was about to do (Gen. xli. 
25-28). A most important dream was granted to Solomon, to 
whom *' the Lord appeared in a dream by night," and told him 
to ask whatever favor he might wish : on which occasion the 
king preferred his celebrated request for wisdom (Kings iii, 5-15). 
Another ruler, Nebuchadnezzar, was also visited by a prophetic 
dream, the nature of which was revealed to the interpreter, 
Daniel, '"in a night vision,*' by God himself, who thus admit- 
ted that it was he who had sent it. A further communication 
was made to Nebuchadnezzar, in the dream which he himself 
has recorded in the proclamation which bears witness at the 
same time to the fulfillment of its warning (Daniel ii., iv). But 
of all the dreams handed down to us by the Scriptural writers, 
by far the most material, as evidence of their Divine character, 
is that on which the mystery of the Incarnation mainly rests. 
Take away the dream in which Joseph was informed .that the 
Holy Ghost was the parent of Mary's first-born child (Matt. i. 
20), and that mystery will depend exclusively on a story of an 
angel's visit, of necessity related by Mary herself (Luke i. 35); 
for obvious reasons not the most trustworthy witness on so del- 
icate a point. But this is not all; for it was by a dream that 
the Magi, after their adoration, were warned to escape the ven- 
geance of Herod (Matt. ii. 12) ; and by a dream that the life of 



DEEAMS. 109 

the infant Christ was preserved in the massacre of the inno- 
cents (Matt. ii. 13). Christianity, therefore, may be said to owe 
its very existence to tlie celestial intimations conveyed in 
dreams, and Christians cannot consistently embrace any theory 
which would lead to a denial of their holy and prophetic char- 
acter. Since, moreover, we have numerous instances in the 
Bible of such dreams being granted to heathens and idolaters 
it is plain that the Christian deity does not confine his noctur- 
nal visitations to orthodox believers. If the chief butler, the 
chief baker, Pharaoh, and Nebuchadnezzar dreamt propheti- 
cally, so may any of us at any time according to this teaching. 
On the other hand, this power may be due to a special out- 
pouring of the Holy Spirit, as implied in the prediction of Joel 
that "your sons and your daughters shall prophecy, your old 
men shall dream dreams, your young men shall see visions'* 
(Joel ii. 28). So that we may completely endorse the conclusion 
of the Eev. Principal Barry, who discusses this subject with 
much solemnity in Smith's "Dictionary of the Bible," "that 
the Scripture claims the dream, as it does every other action of 
the human mind, as a medium through which God may speak 
to man, either directlv, that is, as we call it, 'providentially,' 
or indirectly, in virtue of a general influence upon all his 
thoughts; but whether there is anything to be said in support 
of the further inference that "revelation by dreams" may be 
expected to pass away, is not equally clear. Assuredly no pas- 
sage can be produced which, even by implication, states that 
this method of communication was temporary or transient; and 
considering that it continued in operation from the days of 
Abraham to those of Jesus, it is hard to see how the Bible can 
be made to support the notion that it is to cease entirely at 
any perrod of human history. On the contrary, the Scriptural 
writers, both old and new, would practically have agreed with 
Homer: "The dream also is from Zeus" (Iliad, i. 63). Indeed, 
the passage in which that deity sends the personified Dream to 
bear a message to Agamemnon (Ibid., ii. 8-15), differs only in 
its mythological coloring from the representations in the Bible 
of dreams in which God comes or appears to the sleeper, or iji 
which he charges an angel to convey to him his purpose or his 
will. And the discrimination commanded to be exercised 



110 HOLY EVENTS. 

between prophecies or dreams deserving attention, and prophe- 
cies or dreams contrived merely to test the fidelity of the 
Israelites, and therefore not to be received as true, fully corres- 
ponds to the distinction drawn in the Odyssey between dreams 
passing through the iron gate, and dreams passing through the 
ivory gate. Those that came through the horn gate brought 
true intimations ; but those that came through the ivory gate 
were sent to deceive (Od. xix, 560-568). 

Another involuntary action through which God communi- 
cates with man is sneezing. From the lowest savages to the 
most educated nation on the face of the earth, this simple phj^s- 
ical event is viewed as an omen. A peculiarity attending this 
particular kind of manifestation is, that it is usual for those 
present when it occurs to notice it by saying something of favor- 
able augury. In Samoa, one of the Polynesian islands, it was 
common to say. "Life to you!," (N. Y., p. 347.) an exclamation 
which in sense corresponds almost exactly to the German 
"Gesundheit!" (health) to the Italian "Salute!" and to our 
own "God bless you!" on the same occasion. South African 
savages have the same sentiment of the religious nature of the 
omen involved in sneezing. Thus, among the Kafirs we learn 
that " it used always to be said when a man sneezed, ' May 
Utikxo [God] ever regard me with favor.'" Canon Callaway, 
who has acutely noticed the parallelism among various nations 
in respect of the feeling associated with this action, further 
informs us that "among the Amazulu, if a child sneeze, it is 
regarded as a good sign; and if it be ill, they believe it will 
recover. On such an occasion they exclaim, 'Tutuka,' Grow. 
When a grown up x)erson sneezes, he says, * Eakiti, ngi liambe 
kade,' Spirits of our people, grant me a long life. As he believes 
that at the time of sneezing the spirit of his house is^in some 
especial proximity to him, he believes it is a time especially 
favorable to prayer, and that whatever he asks for will be given ; 
hence he may say, 'Bakwiti, inkomo,' Spirits of our people, 
give me cattle, or 'Bakwiti, abntwana,' spirits of our people 
give me children. Diviners among the natives are very apt to 
sneeze, which they regard as an indication of the presence of 
the spirits; the diviner adores by saying, 'Makosi,' Lords, or 
Masters " (R. S. A., part i. p. 64). A similar belief prevails among 



SNEEZING. • 111 

the Parsees, who consider a sneeze as a mark of victory 
obtained over the evil spirits who besiege the interior of the 
body by the fire which animates man, and who accordingly ren- 
der thanks to Ahuramazda when this event happens (Z. A., vol. 
11. p. 598). 

Classical antiquity presents us with an example of a famous 
sneeze. At a critical moment in the expedition of the Ten 
Thousand against Artaxerxes, when they were left in a hostile 
country surrounded with perplexities and perils, Xenophon 
encouraged them by an address in which he urged that if they 
would take a certain course, they had with the favor of the gods, 
many and good hopes of safety. Just at these words, "some- 
body sneezes/' and immediately the droopirig hearts of the sol- 
diery were comforted by this assurance of divine protection. 
With one impulse they worshipped the god ; and Xenophon 
remarked that since, when they were in the very act of speak- 
ing of safety, this favorable augury of Zeus the Savior had 
appeared, it seemed proper to him that they should vow thank- 
offerings to this deitj', to be presented on their first arrival in a 
friendly country, and also that they should make a vow to sac- 
rifice to the other gods according to their ability (Xen. Anab. iii. 
2. 9). Not only is it customary in Germany to welcome a sneeze 
with the above-mentioned exclamation of " Gesundheit! " but 
a notion is stated to prevail that should one person be thinking 
of something in the future, and another sneeze at the moment he 
is thus engaged, the thing thought of will come pass. So that 
the commonest character ascribed to sneezing is that of an aus- 
picious omen. 

Other phenomena may serve as omens, and such phenomena 
may be either natural or preternatural. In the first case their 
prophetic or significant character is entirely due to the inter- 
pretation put upon them by men; in the second, it is inherent 
in their very nature, which at once renders them conspicuous 
as exceptions to the usual course. Those of the first class have 
thus a dual function; contemplated on the other side, they are 
merely events belonging to" the regular sequence of causes and 
effects ; contemplated on the other, they are especially contrived, 
as indications of the divine purposes. Hence, to one observer 
they may bear the appearance of ordinary i^henomena; to an- 



112 HOLY EVENTS. 

other, better informed, they may convey important intimations 
of the future. Tacitus mentions, for example, the favorable 
augury that was granted to the Komans on the eve of a battle 
with the Germans by the flight of eight eagles who sought the 
woods (Tac. Ann., ii. 17. 2). Th*e same author informs us of a 
melancholy omen which occurred to Paetus when he and his 
army were crossing the Euphrates. Without apparent cause, the 
horse which bore the consular insignia turned backwards (Ibid., 
XV. 7. 3). Each of these signs was of course followed by its 
appropriate exents. A belief which is thus found in a civilized 
nation naturally has its prototype among the uncivilized. The 
Kafirs believe that the spirits send them omens. Thus a wild 
animal entering a kraal is "regarded as a messenger from the 
spirit to remind the people that they have done something 
wrong." Another omen which is considered very terrible is the 
bleating of a sheep while it is being slaughtered. A councilor, 
to whom it occured to hear this sign, was told by a prophet 
that it "foreboded his death." Strange to say, his chief soon 
after sent soldiers to kill him, and the man only averted his 
threatened fate by escaping to Natal. Among other natural 
events which are omens to the Kafirs are, "a child born dead; 
a woman two days in parturition ; a man burnt while sitting by 
the fire, unless he were asleep or drunk " (K. N. pp. 162, 163). 
"An unexpected whirlwind will suggest to" the Chinese "the 
contest of evil spirits ; and the flying of a crow in a peculiar 
direction fill them with consternation. In such a deplorable 
state," gravely observes the missionary who records these facts, 
"is the heathen mind" (C. O., vol. ii. p. 208). Perhaps he did 
not consider that there were many in more enlightened coun- 
tries who would be alarmed at the omen implied by a dinner- 
party of thirteen, and who would regard it as of evil augury to 
begin a journey on Friday. In such a deplorable state is the 
Christian mind. 

Ceylon appears to be remarkable for the faith placed by its in- 
habitants in omens, which are even said to regulate their whole 
conduct and to intimate their destiny from birth onwards. 
Children, of whose future the astrologers predict evil, are some- 
times destroyed in order to avoid their pre-determined misery. 
On going out in the morning, the Singhalese anxiously remark 



OMENS. 113 

the object they encounter first, in order to deduce from it a 
favorable or unfavorable augury for the business of the day. 
*'I, as a European," says the author who tells us these facts, 
*' was always a glad sight to them ;" for " a white man or a 
woman with child " were good omens ; but beggars and deformed 
persons so unlucky, as even to stop these hapless folk from pro- 
ceeding in the work they were about during the day on which 
these boding signs were the first things to meet their gaze (A. 
I. C, p. 194). Another phenomenon of a somewhat less ordi- 
nary kind serves as an omen to the Singhalese, though appar- 
ently only in reference to a single fact. There is visible in Cey- 
lon '* a peculiar and beautiful meteor," termed "Buddha rays,'' 
which *'is supposed by the natives only to appear over a tem- 
ple or tomb of Buddhr/s relics, and from thence to emanate." 
The appearance of these rays is taken by believers as a sign 
that the Buddhist faith will last for the destined span of five 
thousand years from its founder's death (E. Y., vol. i. p. 337); 
much as the rainbow is held bj^ Jews and Christians to be the 
token of a promise that God will never again punish the world 
by a universal deluge. 

The next class of omens need not consist of phenomena 
which are absolutely beyond the range of phj^sical law, pro- 
vided they be sufBciently rare to strike the imagination of ob- 
servers as marvelous occurrences. For example, an eclipse of 
the sun maybe an omen to savage or very uninstructed people; 
a comet, being more unusual, will seem ominous to nations 
standing on a much higher grade of culture. Advancing still 
higher, extraordinary and inexplicable sights in the heavens or 
on earth will stand for portents to all but the scientifically 
minded. An example of the latter class is found in the tempo- 
rary withering of the Euminal tree, which had sheltered the 
infancy of Eomulus and Eemus 840 years before (Tac. Ann., 
xiii. 58). At the time at which Tacitus begins his history, there 
were, he says, prodigies in the sky and on earth, warnings of 
lightnings and presages of future things (Tae. Hist., i. 3. 2). 
Popular imagination, besides converting natural, but rare, phe- 
nomena into omens, invents others which are altogether super- 
natural. In the disturbed days of Otho and Vitellius, it was 
rumored that a form of larger than human dimensions had 



lU HOLT EVENTS. 

issued from the shrine of Juno; that a statue of Julius on the 
Tiberice island had turned round from west to east without any- 
perceptible agency ; that an ox in Etruria had spoken ; that 
animals had brought forth strange progeny; and that other 
alarming exceptions to the laws of nature had been observed 
(Ibid., i. 86. i). The supposed contraction of a man's shadow is 
thought in South Africa to portend his death (E. S. A., pt. i. p. 
126). The Irish Banshee is a being who does not belong to any 
species recognized by science, and who) moreover, is heard to 
scream only before a death in the family to which she is at- 
tached. The ticking sound produced by a small insect in the 
wooden furniture of a room is termed in. Scotland the death- 
watch, and has the same ominous significance. To one family, 
a drummer heard, to drum outside the castle is significant of 
death ; in another, it may be that a particular ghost, seen by a 
casual visitor who knows nothing of its meaning,' conveys a 
similar intimation. The birth of great men is often supposed 
to be marked by extraordinary signs. "At my nativity," says 
Owen Glendower, 

'* The front of heaven was full of fiery shapes, 
Of burning cressets; and at my birth. 
The frame and huge foundation of the earth 
Shak'd like a coward." 

And again : — 

" The goats ran from the mountains, and the herds 
Were strangely clamorous to the frighted fields. 

• These signs have marked me extraordinary; 
And all the courses of my life do show 
I am not in the roll of common men."* 

From signs which the bounty of nature supplies without 
effort on the part of human beings, we proceed to those which 
are granted only in reply to solicitations on the part of some 
person or persons in quest of supernatural information. Of 
these, a leading place must be assigned to those which are 
obtained through the medium of diviners. Divination is in 
many parts of the world a highly-developed and lucrative art. 

* Henry lY., pt. 1, act iii. scene 1. 



DIVINATION. 115 

The natives of South Africa, being in any perplexity, resort to 
the professional diviner to help them out of it. Should cattle 
be lost, should a goat be too long in giving birth to its kids, 
should a relation be ill, the diviner is asked to inform those 
who consult him, both what it is that has happened, and what 
they are to do. Sometimes his replies are assisted by sticks 
held by the people, who beat them vehemently on the ground 
when he divines correctly, and gently when he divines incor- 
rectly; sometimes he himself makes use of small sticks or 
bones, which indicate by their movements the thing desired to 
be known; sometimes again mysterious voices, supposed to be 
those of spirits, are heard to speak. In a case related by one 
of Canon Callaway's informants (who was quite sceptical as to 
that class of diviners who required the people to strike the 
ground), a correct answer was given by a diviner who employed 
bones as his professional instruments. He had gone to inquire 
about a goat of his brother's, which had been yeaning some 
days, and had not brought forth. The diviner discovered from 
his bones what was the matter; he declared that the she-goat 
had been made ill by sorcerers, and told them that when they 
reached home it would have given birth to two kids. The pre- 
diction \^as fulfilled^ On reaching home there were two kids, a 
white and a grey one; the very colors the diviner had seen in 
his inspired vision. "I was at once satisfied," observes the 
narrator (E. S. A., pt. iii. p. 334-336). Another mode of divining 
is by the aid of "familiar spirits," who address the consulting 
party without being themselves visible. A native relates that 
his adopted father went to inquire of a diviner by spirits (named 
Umancele) concerning his wife's illness. When the relations of 
the sick woman entered to salute, some heard the spirits salut- 
ing them, saying, "Good-day, So and So." The person thus 
addressed started, and exclaimed, "Oh, whence does the voice 
come? I was saluting Umancele yonder." The divination in 
this case was not successful, and the narrator pathetically 
regrets that a bullock was given to the diviner for his false 
information. In another case a woman, who likewise divined 
by means of spirits, was perfectly correct in all she said. Some 
members of a family in which a little boy suffered from convul- 
sions went to consult her; and she discovered, or rather the 



116 HOLY EVENTS. 

spirits discovered for her, what was the matter with him; what 
was the relationship of those who had come; and what were 
their circumstances. She prescribed a remedy, and predicted a 
complete recovery. The cause of the illness was, according to 
her, the displeasure of ancestral spirits. A sacrifice was to be 
offered to them ; and the village was to be removed to another 
place. These things done, she declared that the boy would have 
no more of the convulsions from which he suffered. If he did, 
they might take back their money. All turned out as she had 
said, to the very letter (R. S. A., pt. iii. p. 361-374). 

The priests of the North American tribes have a peculiar 
method of divination. Having received a handful of tobacco as 
a fee, they will summon a spirit to answer the inquiries of their 
visitors. This they do by enclosing themselves in lodges, in 
which they utter incantations. As may be supposed, the spirits 
who obey the summons of the Indian priest are not much more 
useful as guides to action than those who figure at the seance 
of his civilized competitor, the medium. Their replies, "though 
usually clear and correct, are usually of that profoundly ambig- 
uous purport which leaves the anxious inquirer little wiser than 
he was before" Of. N. W., p. 268). Brinton, however, having 
stated this, proceeds to speak of cases, apparently well attested, 
in which the diviners have foreseen coming events with unac- 
countable clearness. For instance, when Captain Jonathan 
Carver, in 1767, was among the Killistenoes, and that tribe was 
suffering from want of food, the chief priest consulted the 
divinities, and predicted with perfect accuracy the hour on the 
following day when a canoe would arrive. Brinton adds, on 
the authority of John Mason Brown, that when Mr. Brown and 
two companions were pursuing an "apparently hopeless quest" 
for a band of Indians, they were met by some warriors of that 
very band, who declared that the appearance of the white man 
had been exactly described by the medicine-man who had sent 
them. And what renders the story remarkable is, that "the 
description was repeated to Mr. Brown by the warriors before 
they saw his two companions." The priest was unable to ex- 
plain what he had done, except by sajang that " he saw them 
coming, and heard them talk on their journey" (M. N. W., pp. 
270, 271). 



DIVINATION. 117 

Among th© Ostiacks in former days, the priests, when they 
intended to divine, caused themselves to be bound, threw them- 
selves on the ground, and made all sorts of grimaces and con- 
tortions till they felt themselves inspired with a reply to the 
question that had been put to the idol. Those who had come 
to consult the oracle, sighed and moaned and struck upon cer- 
tain vessels so as to make a noise, till they saw a bluish vapor, 
which they conceived to be the spirit of prophecy, and which, 
while spreading over all the spectators, seized the diviner and 
caused him to fall into convulsions (Bernard, vol. viii. p. 412). 

In ancient China, " the instruments of divination were the 
shell of the tortoise and the stulks of a certain grass or reed" 
(C. C, vol. iii. Proleg. p. 196). These are frequently spoken of 
in the sacred books as the "tortoise and milfoil," and there 
are historical examples of their employment. The following 
rules for divination are given by a speaker in the Shoo King: — 

" Having chosen and appointed officers for divining by the 
tortoise and by the milfoil, they are to be charged on occasion 
to perform their duties. In doing this, they will find the appear- 
ances of, rain, clearing up, cloudiness, want of connection, and 
crossing; and the symbols, solidity and repentance. In all, the 
indications are seven; — five given by the tortoise, and two by 
the milfoil, by which the errors of affairs may be traced out. 
These officers having been appointed, when the operations with 
the tortoise and milfoil are proceeded with, three men are to 
obtain and interpret the indications and symbols, and the con- 
senting words of two of them are to be followed" (0. C, vol. 
iii. p. 335). 

Further instructions are then given in case the Emperor, 
nobles', officers, or people, and any or all of these, should disa- 
gree \vith the tortoise and milfoil; the greater weight being 
given to the latter (Ibid., p. 327). 

Of modern divination in China, Dr. Legge recounts the fol- 
lowing story: — 

**I once saw a father and son divining after one of the fash- 
ions of the present day. They tossed the bamboo roots, which 
came down in the unlucky positions for a dozen times in suc- 
cession. At last a lucky cast was made. They looked into each 
other's faces, laughed heartily, and rose up, delighted, from 



118 HOLT EVENTS. 

their knees. The divination was now successful, and they dared 
not repeat it!" (Ibid., Proleg. p. 197). 

Here it seems that heaven was merely called in to give its 
sanction to a foregone conclusion. 

The Singhalese have a curious method of discovering, by a 
species of divination, what god it is who has caused the illness 
of a patient. ""With any little stick," says Knox, "they make 
a bow, and on the string thereof they hang a thing they have 
to cut betel-nuts, somewhat like a pair of scissors; then hold- 
ing the stick or bow by both ends, they repeat the names of 
all, both god and devils : and when they come to him who hath 
afflicted them, then the iron or the bowstring will swing" (H. 
E. C, p. 76). 

Divination, as is well known, was regularly practiced by the 
ancients, who read the will of the gods in the eni rails of ani- 
mals, and who employed, as a help in forseeing the future and 
guiding their conduct, the class of professional diviners known 
as augurs. 

Another method, by which it has often been supposed that 
God entered into communication with man, is that of the move- 
ments of the stars and planets. Hence the pseudo-science of 
astrology, which was so much cultivated in the middle ages 
before its supersession by astronom3^ In India, observes Karl 
Twesten, the stars were very early consulted as oracles. Manu 
excludes astrologers from the sacrifices; and in later times 
astrology became very general. According to Twesten, there is 
an astrologer in almost every Hindu community, who is much 
consulted, and determines the favorable moment for every im- 
portant undertaking (R. I., p. 285). Antiquity, wide extension, 
and great persistency may all be pleaded on behalf of the notion 
that terrestrial events are forshadowed by a system of celestial 
signals. There is a touch of astrological belief in the evangel- 
ical narrative that the birth of Christ was intimated to the 
Magi by a star in the east. 

Sometimes, when it was desirable not to ascertain future 
events, but to decide between guilt and innocence, truth and 
falsehood, the divine Being himself was called in as umpire, 
and was supposed to convey his judgment by the turn of events 
in a pre-arranged case. This is the theory of those ommvmi- 



ORDEALS. 119 

cations from God to man which are made by ordeals. Ordeals 
were of various kinds, according to the nature of the issue to 
be tried. Did one man charge another with some kind of dis- 
graceful conduct, the accuser was summoned to put his words 
to the test of a single combat, in which truth was held to lie 
on the side of the victor ; was an old woman suspected of witch- 
craft, she was thrown into the nearest pond, with thumbs and 
toes tied together, where her floating was regarded as certain 
evidence of her guilt. Innocence of legal crime, or in the case 
of women, of adultery, has very frequently been established by 
the method of ordeals. Several authors have noticed the or- 
deals in use among the natives on the west coast of Africa. 
One of them, writing of Sierra Leone, informs us that if an 
accused person can find a chijef to patronize him, he is permit- 
ted to clear himself by submitting either to have a hot iron 
applied to his skin, or to dip his hand in boiling oil to pull out 
some object put into it, or to have his tongue stroked with a 
red-hot copper ring. Since his being burnt is considered as a 
proof of guilt, it would not appear that the chances of escape 
were great. "Upon the Gold Coast, the ordeal consists in 
chewing the bark of a tree, with a prayer that it may cause 
his death if he be not innocent. In the neighborhood of Sierra 
Leone," a very peculiar ordeal is practiced, that, namely, of 
drinking water prepared from the bark of a certain tree, and 
termed **red water." Before -taking it, the drinker repeats a 
prayer containing an imprecation on himself if guilty. Should 
this decoction cause purging or pains in the bowels, it is a 
proof of guilt; should it, on the contrary, excite vomiting, and 
produce no effect on the bowels for twenty-four hours, an ac- 
quittal ensues, and the person who has thus successfully under- 
gone the trial is held in higher esteem than he enjoyed before 
(N. A., vol. i. p. 129-133). Sometimes this singular mode of trial 
is employed in cases where a corpse is supposed to have accused 
some person of causing the death of its former owner (S. L., p. 
124-127). On the Gold Coast, "every person entering into any 
obligation is obliged to drink the swearing liquor." Thus, 
should one nation intend to assist another, ** all the chief ones 
are obliged to drink this liquor, with an imprecation that their 
fetiche may punish them with death if they do not assist them 



120 HOLY EVENTS. 

with utmost vigor to extirpate their enemy." Since, however, 
a dispensing power over sucli oaths has been exercised by the 
priests, some negroes observe the precaution, before taking 
oaths, of causing the priest to swear first, and then drink the 
red water, with an imprecation tliat the feach may punish him 
if he absolves any one without the consent of all the parties 
interested in tlie contract (D. C. G., pp. 124, 125). 

The sanction of Scripture is given to an ordeal of precisely 
this nature is the case of women charged with adultery; and it 
is curious to find the very same mode of testing the fidelity of 
wives employed both by the ancient Hebrews and modern 
negroes. The law of Moses was, that if a man suspected his 
wife of unfaithfulness, and the " spirit of jealousy" came upon 
him, he might take her to the priest (witlT an offering, of 
course), and leave him to deal with her in the following manner: 
Taking holy water in an earthen vessel, the priest was to mix 
in it some of the dust of the floor of the tabernacle, and set the 
woman with her head uncovered, and the jealousy offering in 
her hands, "before the Lord." He was then to " charge her with 
an oath," saying, that if she was pure, she was to be free from 
the bitter water that caused the curse, but if not, the Lord was 
to make her a curse and an oath among her people, causing 
her hips (or thighs) [to disappear and her belly to swell. The 
water was to go into her bowels to produce these effects. 
Hereupon the woman was to say, "Amen, amen." According to 
the effects of the bitter water upon her constitution, was her 
guilt or her innocence adjudged to be (Num. v. 11-31). 

Now the procedure of the negroes, in similar cases, is almost 
an exact reproduction (it can scarcely be an imitation) of that 
enjoined by Jehovah. "Eed water" is administered, instead of 
"bitter water;" but with this exception, precisely the same 
method is pursued, and precisely the same doctrine underlies 
the use of the ordeal. God is expected, both by Jews and 
negroes, to manifest the truth where human skill is incompe- 
tent to discover it. The negroes, according to Bosman, believe 
that where the red water is drunk by one who makes a false 
declaration, he will either "be swelled by that liquor till he 
bursts," or will "shortly die of a languishing sickness; the 
first punishment they imagine more peculiar to women, who 



MIBACLES. 121 

take this draught to acquit them of any accusation of adultery :'* 
a belief which curiously reminds us of the old Jewish supersti- 
tion, that the hips will fall away and the belly swell in the case 
of the adulterous wife who has taken the bitter water on a 
false presence. Bosman himself has correctly observed on the 
remarkable similarity of the two procedures (D. C. G., p. 125), 

A slightly different mode of trying suspected adultresses by 
ordeal prevails among the Ostiacks (in Northern Asia). Should 
an Ostiack entertain doubts of his wife's fidelity, he cuts ofl a 
handful of hair from a bear's skin, and takes it to her. If 
innocent, she receives it without hesitation ; but if guilty, she 
does not venture to touch it, and is accordingly repudiated. 
The conviction reigns among these people, that were a woman 
to lie under these circumstances, the bear to whom the hair 
belonged would revive in three days and come to devour her 
(Bernard, vol. viii. pp. 44, 45). 

More important, however, and more universal than any of 
the above means of communication from God to man, is the 
method of communication by miracles. There is probably no 
great religion in the world, the establishment of which has 
been altogether dissociated from miracles. They form the most 
striking, most indisputable, most intelligible proof of the divine 
will. Not indeed that there is any close logical connection 
between the performance of a wonder, and the truth of the 
wonder-worker's doctrines; but popular imagination jumps 
readily to the conclusion that a man, whom rumor or tradition 
has invested with supernatural powers over nature, must also 
be in possession of correct opinions, or even of superhuman 
knowledge, on the mysterious questions with which religion 
deals. Hence ecclesiastical historians, of all ages and countries, 
have sought to show that those from whom they deduced the 
systems in which they wished their readers to believe, were 
either themselves gifted with thaumaturgic faculties, or were 
the subjects of special marvels worked upon them. Such mira- 
cles have always served as their credentials, indicating their 
high character, and entitling them to demand the obedience of 
mankind to the commands they brought. 

The establishment of Buddhism, for example, was attended 
by the performance of extraordinary miracles. Not only did the 



122 HOLT EVENTS. 

Buddha himself frequently perform supernatural feats ; not only 
did his disciples, when they attained a certain grade of sanc- 
tity, receive the faculty of flying and doing other wonderful 
things ; but he actually proved the superiority of his claims over 
those of others by a pitched battle in thaumaturgy. Certain 
Tirthyas, or heretical teachers, had the audacity to challenge 
him to contend with them in working miracles, and the trial of 
skill ended, of course, in their ignominous defeat (H. B. I., p. 
162-189). Much in the same way did Moses enter into a rivalry 
with Pharaoh's magicians, who were overcome by his superior 
miracles as the Tirthyas were by those of Gautama Buddha. 
As Jewish prophets and Christian saints received by spiritual 
inheritance the power of performing miracles, so also did the 
Fathers of Buddhism. Of one of the greatest of these, named 
Nagardjuna, it is related that a Brahman who had entered into 
a dispute, with liim produced a magical pond, in the middle of 
which was a lotus with a thousand leaves, but that Nagardjuna 
produced a magical elephant which destroyed the magical pond 
(Wassiljew, p. 234). This again may remind us of the serpent of 
• Moses, which swallowed up the serpents of the magicians; or of 
the fire brought down from heaven by Elijah in his controversy 
with the prophets of Baal. Another eminent Buddhist, Asvago- 
sha, was remarkable as a preacher. The ofQcials at the court 
of a certain king reproached him with holding this holy man 
in too high esteem. The king thereupon took seven horses, 
kept them six days without food, and then led them to the 
place where Asvagosha was preaching to be fed. The horses 
would not touch the food that was offered, but shed tears at the 
words of the preacher (Wassiljew, p. 232). 

The history of the Mongols records some equally wonderful 
performances on the part of a Lama (or priest) named Bogda. 
When some messengers came to meet him, he raised his hand 
in a threatening way against a river, the waters of which 
immediately began to run upwards instead of downwards; 
"by which miracle," observes the historian, "an unshakeable 
faith was established in all minds." No wonder. The division 
of the Bed Sea and the Jordan were child's play to this. The 
same man caused many others to believe by suddenly produc- 
ing a spring in a dry place. In another country which he vis' 



MIBAOLES. 123 

ited, he subdued all the dragons and other baneful creatures to 
his will (G. O. M., p. 227). 

If the founder of the Mussulman religion did not claim any- 
direct power of performing miracles, yet the communication to 
him of the Suras which compose the the Koran was a standing 
miracle. He professed to fall into an ecstatic condition, in 
which he received the direct instructions of his God; and his 
care, when entering the sick-room of a friend, to avoid treading 
on the angels' wings which he saw extended in all directions, 
indicates a pretension to more than hUman faculties. The 
present votaries of the Mohammedan faith believe in the power 
of their saints to work miracles, for we read of the sick being 
taken to their Sheik to be cured by the imposition of his feet 
(Dervishes, p. 347). 

That the Christian religion was largely indebted to miracles 
for its success during its early years need hardly be remarked. 
Not only did Christ himself perform miracles of the most ex- 
traordinary kind, but the power was, if not wholly, yet to some 
extent, transmitted to his apostles, and was frequently exer- 
cised by the saints and Fathers of the early Church. Jesus 
himself, according to tradition, relied largely on his miracles as 
proofs of his divine mission; for when John the Baptist sent 
disciples to inquire who he was, he replied by telling them to 
report to their master that the blind received sight, the lame 
walked, the lepers were cleansed, the deaf heard, the dead were 
raised up, and the poor had the gospel preached to them. So 
that the possession of this unusual gift of healing and re-ani- 
mating, was regarded by him (or, more .accurately, by his biog- 
raphers) as a sufficient answer to the doubt entertained by John 
whether he were really the Messiah, or whether, another were 
to come. 

How great was the importance attached to the possession of 
miraculous powers by the early Christian Church, may be gath- 
ered from a passage in which Irenaeus endeavors to cover cer- 
tain heretics with confusion, by asserting that they are unable 
to do the things that are commonly done by the adherents 
of the true faith. •*For they can neither confer sight on the 
blind, nor hearing on the deaf, nor chase away all sorts of 
demons — [none, indeed], except those that are sent into others 



124 HOLT EVENTS. 

by themselves, if they cau even do so much as this. Nor can 
they cure the weak, or the lame, or the paralytic, or those who 
are distressed in any other part of the body, as has often been 
done in regard to bodily infirmity. Nor can they furnish effec- 
tive remedies for those external accidents which may occur. 
And so far are they from being able to raise the dead, as the 
Lord raised them, and the apostles did by means of prayer, and 
as has been frequently done in the brotherhood on account of 
some necessity ~ the entire Church in that particular locality 
entreating [the boon] with much fasting and prayer, the spirit 
of the dead man has returned, and he has been bestowed in 
answer to the prayers of the saints — that they do not even 
believe this can possibly be done, [and hold] that the resurrec- 
tion from the dead is simply an acquaintance with that truth 
which they proclaim." * Thus, the cure of infirmities and dis-» 
eases by ^pernatural means were every-day achievements of 
the early Christians ; and even the dead were sometimes restored 
to life, when sufQcient pains svere taken to obtain the favorable 
attention of the Almighty. "It is not possible," observes the 
same author in another place, *'to name the number of the 
gifts which the Church [scattered] throughout the whole world 
has received from God, in the name of Jesus Christ, who was 
crucified under Pontius Pilate, and which she exerts day by day 
for the benefit of the Gentiles, "f 

Hence the Mormons, who claim to possess at the present day 
the powers which have departed from Christians in general, are 
perfectly in accordance with Irenaeus in holding that signs like 
these are invariably attendant on the kingdom of God. Keve- 
lations, visions, the powers of prophecy, of healing, of speaking 
with tongues, of casting out devils, and working other miracles, 
are (they contend) the prerogatives of those who belong to this 
kingdom. History, in relating first the miracles of the Jewish 
patriarchs and prophets, then those of the Christian Fathers, 
powerfully supports this theory. Scripture in several unambig- 
uous passages entirely confirms it. And the daily experience of 
the Latter-day Saints, if we accept their statements, bears wit- 
ness to its truth, by presenting abundant examples of the 

* Irenaaus adv. Haereses, ii. xxxi. 2.— A. N. L., vol. v. p. 241. t Ibid., n., 
xxxii. i.— A. N, L., vol. v. p. 246. 



MIRACLES. 125 

actual exercise of such supernatural gifts within their own 
society. Thus, one person is cured of blindness; another of 
dislocation of the thigh; another has his fractured backbone 
restored ; in the fourth case it is a rupture that is healed ; in 
the fifth convulsive fits that are stopped.* I have myself been 
present at a Mormon meeting for public worship, and have 
heard the saints who were gathered together narrate, with per- 
fect solemnity and apparent good faith, the miraculous cures 
which they themselves experienced, or which they had person- 
ally witnessed. One after another rose to bear his testimony 
to some case of the kind which had fallen within his imme- . 
diate knowledge. To these uncultivated and fanatical people, 
holy events still were what they have long ceased to be to the 
ordinary Christian world — living realities; and we may still 
study in them the mental condition of those who could accept 
as phenomena occurring in their own day the restoration of 
sight, hearing, or speech ; the expulsion of devils ; and the res- 
urrection of the dead. 

• For the evidence of these miracles, see a paper by the author on " The 
Latter-day Saints." in the Fortnightly Beview for December. 1869. 



CHAPTER II. 

HOLY PLACES. 

"Draw not nigh hither," said the occupant of the burning 
bush to Moses; *'put off thy shoes from off thy feet; for the 
place whereon thou standest is holy ground" (Exod. iii. 5). 
This verse embodies the universal theory of holy places. They 
are spots occupied in a special and peculiar manner by the 
deity or his representative; and where he finds it easier to 
communicate with mankind than it is elsewhere. Hence, those 
who hope or desire to receive some celestial intimation, resort 
to such holy places. The oracles of the ancient world, and the 
temple at Jerusalem, are instances of holy places where the 
respective gods worshiped by those who frequented them gave 
responses', or manifested their presence. Holy places are not 
always consecrated places. Sometimes — as in the case of the 
Delphian oracle — the consecration is the work of nature; the 
divinity intimates in some unmistakable way his presence in 
the sanctuary which he has himself selected; and human be- 
ings have nothing to do but humbly to receive such communi- 
cations as he may desire to make. Frequently, however, holy 
places have only become holy by the act of consecration ; the 
local god has not occupied them until they have been duly pre- 
pared for him by human labor. On the other hand, consecrated 
places are always holy places. Not indeed that there are always 
conspicuous intimations of the divine presence ; but it is never- 
theless vaguely supposed to haunt the buildings where worship 
is offered, and rites are performed, more than it does the outer 
world. 

To begin with a few instances of holy places which have not 
undergone consecration. On the coast of Guinea "almost every 
village hath a small appropriated grove. ' Offerings are made in 



GROVES. 127 

these groves, and they are regarded as so sacred that no one ven- 
tures to injure the trees by plucking, cutting, or breaking their 
branches. "Universal malediction" would be one of the conse- 
quences of such misconduct (D. C. G., p. 128). Mr. Turner 
states that "as of old in Canaan, sacred groves for heathen 
worship, with and without temples, were quite common in the 
islands of the Pacific" (N. Y., p. 329). These are instances of 
the sacredness so frequently attached to woods and forests by 
primitive nations. 

" The groves were God's first temples. Ere man learned 
To hew the shaft, and lay the architrave. 
And spread the roof above them; ere he framed 
The lofty vault, to gather and roll back 
The sound of anthems, — in the darkling wood. 
Amidst the cool and silence he knelt down. 
And offered to the Mightiest solemn thanks 
And supplication."* 

Natural characteristics in the same manner determine the 
quality of holiness attributed to certain spots by the natives of 
Africa. Holy places among them are those where a god dwells 
either visibly or invisibly; particular buildings, huts, or hills; 
or trees which are remarkable for age, size, and strength. They 
have also sacred groves into which no negro, not being a priest 
ventures to intrude. One of the tribes asserts that their god has 
his dwelling-place in the cavern of a rock that is situated in 
the bushes (G. d. M., p. 326). 

A singular example of a holy place in a more advanced relig- 
ion is the neighborhood of the Bo tree. Or Bogaha tree, in Cey- 
lon, under whose shade the people worship at the great festi- 
val. This tree derives its sanctity from the circumstance of its 
having sheltered Buddha at an eventful crisis of his life. Near 
it ninety kings are interred; huts are erected around it for the 
use of the devotees who repair to it; and as "every sort of 
uncleanness and dust must 'be removed from the sacred spot," 
•the approaches are continually swept by persons appointed for 
the purpose. Besides the Bo tree, and the pagodas— or public 

* Bryant, a Forest Hymn. 



128 HOLY PLACES. 

temples — many of the Singhalese have private holy places in 
their own houses. They *' build in their yards private chapels, 
which are little houses like to closets," and in these they place 
an image of the Buddha which they worship (H. E. C, p. 73). 

Graves of the dead whom we have loved are apt to become 
holy places to us all; and in some religious creeds, such as 
those of Islam and Christianity, this veneration is extended to 
the tombs of persons who have been distinguished by their 
sanctity, Mussulmans "pray at the tomb of those they repute 
saints;" and expect by offering vows at such places, to obtain 
*• relief, through their saintly intercession, from sickness, mis- 
fortune, sterility, &c." Miracles take place at these tombs, and 
supernatural lights float over them (Dervishes, pp. 79, 80). It is 
believed, too, that "the merits of the deceased will insure a 
favorable reception of the prayers which they offer up in such 
consecrated places" (Dervishes, p. 272). 

Sometimes, again, the place where some striking event in the 
history of religion has occurred, acquires a holiness of its own. 
Thus the Scala Santa at Rome enjoys a preeminent holiness 
possessing the merit of procuring a considerable remission of 
punishment for those who perform the task of ascending it on 
their knees. 

The oracle of Clarius Apollo at Colophon, mentioned by Tac- 
itus, is an example of a large and important class of holy 
places which were not consecrated places. Here it was not a 
woman, as at Delphi (observes Tacitus), who gave the responses ; 
but a priest, who descended into a cavern, and drank water 
from a secret fountain (Tac. Ann., ii. 54). In Jewish history we 
meet with a remarkable instance of a place originally hallowed 
by the actual appearance of God, in the case of Beth-el, "the 
house of God," where Jacob was favored with his remarkable 
dream. "How dreadful is this place! " exclaimed the patriarch 
on waking; "this is none other but the house of God, and this 
is the gate of heaven " (Gen. xxviii. 17). In the spot whose 
holiness had thus been rendered m«,nifest, Jacob proceeded to 
perform consecrating rites; but, contrary to the usual order, 
the holiness preceeded and induced the consecration. 

More generally, consecration forms a sort of invitation to 
the .deity to inhabit the place which has thus been rendered 



GRAVES-HISTORICAL SPOTS-ORACLES. 129 

suited to his abode. Of the holy i)Iaces which are also conse- 
crated, a conspicuous place is due to Solomon's temple; in the 
dedication of which the theory just stated is clearly embodied. 
Solomon, or his historians, perceived the difficulty of causing a 
being so transcendently powerful as Jehovah to dwell within 
local limits. The monarch, in his ci)nsecrating prayer, explains 
that he is well aware that even the heaven of heavens cannot 
contain him ; much less this house that he has buiit. Neverthe- 
less, he cannot give up the notion that this house may, in some 
degree, be peculiarly favored by having his especial attention 
directed towards it. His eyes at least may be open towards it, 
and if he cannot be there himself, his name may. Moreover, 
when prayers are offered in the temple, he may listen to them 
more graciously than to other supplications; and when the 
asseverations of contending parties are confirmed by oaths 
taken before the altar it contains, he may take unusual pains 
to execute justice between them. Jehovah fully approves of his 
servant's proposals. He emphatically declares in reply that he 
has hallowed this house which he has built, to put his name 
there for ever; and that his eyes and his heart shall be there 
pepetually (Kings viii. 22— ix. 3). 

Very primitive peoples hold similar views of the relation of 
their deities to their temples. Just as there was ''an oracle " 
in the Jewish temple, where "the glory of the Lord filled the 
house of the Lord, as it had filled the corresponding place in 
the tabernacle, so in most of the Fiiian temples there is "a 
shrine, where the god is supposed to descend when holding 
communication with the priests ; and there is also a long piece 
of native cloth hung at one end of the building, and from the 
very ceiling, which is also connected with the arrival and 
departure of the god invoked " (Viti, p, 393). It seems to have 
been a general rule in the temples of these islands to have 
some object specially connected with the deity, and through 
which he might manifest his presence in the place. Thus, in 
one of them there was a conch shell, which " the god was sup- 
posed to blow when he wished the people to rise to wa^ " (N. T., 
p. 240). Nay, there was even an altar erected to Jehovah and 
Jesus Christ in one of the islands, **to which persons afflicted 
with all manner of diseases were brought to be healed; and so 



130 HOLT PLACES. 

great was the reputation which this marse obtained, that the 
power of Jehovah and Jesus Christ became great in the estima- 
tion of the people" (N. M. E., p. 28). Here an altar, erected of 
course by a man not yet converted to Christianity, received a 
blessing no less conspicuous than that granted in ancient times 
to Solomon's temple. 

The Mexicans and Peruvians entertained a precisely similar 
belief to that which we have observed among the Fijians and 
the Hebrews. Father Acosta describes the ruins of a very large 
building in Peru which had been a place of worship, where 
immense plunder had been carried off by the Christians. In 
this temple there was a sure tradition that "the devil" had 
spoken, and given responses in his oracle. The fact of the devil 
speaking and answering in these false sanctuaries is, according to 
the learned father, a very common thing in America; but the 
father of lies has become silent since the sign of the cross has 
been raised in those regions of his previous power (H. I., b. v. 
ch. 12). Not only were the temples holy in Peru, but the whole 
of the imperial city of Cozco, the residence of the Incas, enjoyed 
an exceptional holiness. So much was this the case, that if two 
natives of equal rank met one another on the road, the one 
coming from Cozco, and the other going to it, the one coming 
from it received respect and reverence from the one going to 
it, which was enhanced to a higher degree if he were a native 
of Cozco (C. E., b. iii. ch. 20). In approaching the great tem- 
ple at Cozco, there were certain limits where all who passed were 
obliged to take off their shoes : the very same sign of regard for 
holy places which Moses was commanded to observe at the burn- 
ing bush; which is practiced by Parsee priests when ministering 
in their temples, and by Mussulmans in reference to their 
mosques (Ibid., b. iii. ch. 23). 

Prohibition to all but holy persons to enter holy places is 
not uncommon. The holy of holies in the Jewish temple might 
be entered by no one but the high priest, and the utmost hor- 
ror was felt by the Jews at the violation of their sanctuary by 
Pompey. A European traveler in Africa, finding a grove with 
a mat hung before it, wished to enter; but was entreated not 
to do so by the negroes, who informed him that a great spirit, 
who might kill him if displeased, dwelt within. He, however, 



THEIR GENERAL CHARACTER. 131 

went in, and found a delightful place; this being one of those 
to which only priests were admitted (G. d. M., p. 326). Similarly 
among the Parsees, the Atesch-gah, or holy place where wor- 
ship is performed, may be entered only by the priests, except 
under special circumstances, when laymen may enter it after 
due observance of preparatory rites, and with the face covered. 
Such a case would occur if there were no priest to keep up the 
sacred fire (Z. A., vol. ii. p. 569). In Mexico, where there were 
two important holy places — the Cu, or great temple of Vitzili- 
putzli, and the teniple of Tezcatlipuca — the priests alone had 
the right of entry to this last (H. I., b. 5, ch. 13). 

We thus find, among the several nations of the world, a con- 
sistent and all-pervading theory of holy places. These are not 
always the scenes of divine revelations, or of striking events 
produced by the divine agency; but they are much more likely 
to be so favored than other places, and if communications are 
distinctly sought, it must generally be by resorting to such 
local sanctuaries as are commonly reputed to be fitted for the 
purpose. Where no revelation is either given or expected, the 
holy place is yet the abiding home of the deity whose worship 
is celebrated within its enclosure. And although Christians 
may consider their God as present everywhere, yet they are 
conscious on entering a church, of coming, in a peculiar sense, 
into his presence; and they indicate that consciousness by 
removing their hats, if men, and keeping the head covered, if 
women. For such is the outward indication of respect which 
the Christian God is supposed to require of those who set their 
feet within his holy places. 



CHAPTER III. • 

HOLY OBJECTS. 

"While a highly-exalted conception of the First cause 'of 
nature would see him equally in everything, and believe the 
whole world to be alike natural and divine, no actual religion, 
believed by any considerable number of persons, has ever 
reached so abstract an idea. To all of them some things are 
more sacred than others; in the more primitive forms of faith 
these things are either a species of divinities themselves, or 
they are the abode of some divinity; in the more advanced 
types, they are held to be sanctified by the power of God, or to 
be the earthly representatives of his invisible majesty. To the 
class of holy objects belong all charms, amulets, fetishes, sacred 
animals, and other things of whatever kind, which are believed 
in any country to possess a different order of powers from those 
which scientific investigation discovers in them. 

The theory underlying the use of such objects among the 
negroes — and it is practically the same as that of more civil- 
ized nations — is well explained by a German missionary. "Fe- 
tishes, or Shambu," according to him, "are holy things, which 
are supposed to have received a particular power from God, 
both to drive away evil spirits, as also to be useful in all ill- 
nesses and dangers, especially against sorcery." They cover both 
themselves and their gods with fetishes. These descend from 
father to son, and are preserved with the greatest care. Some 
are kept in sanctuaries of their own. There exists among these 
negroes (the Mavu) a class of professional fetish-makers, who 
are mostly old women, and who wear a peculiar dress. A man, 
who had fetishes at the bottom of his staircase, informed the 
writer that their use was to keep the devil from getting into 
his house. Another tribe of negroes prefer to take things which 

132 



FETISHES. 133 

have been struck by lightning for their fetishes : the lightning- 
stroke being, as the missionary justly concludes, an indication 
that a divine power has united itself to these objects (G. d. M., 
pp. 322, 323). 

The natives of Sierra Leone are described as placing unlim- 
ited faith in " griggories," or charms. These are made of goats' 
skin ; texts df the Koran are written upon them, and they are 
worn upon various parts of the person. They have distinct 
functions, each one being designed to preserve the wearer from 
a certain kind of evil or danger (S. L., p. 132). 

Numerous objects were holy in Peru. Elvers, fountains, 
large stones, hills, the tops of mountains, are mentioned by 
Acosta as having been adored by the Peruvians; indeed, he 
says that they adored whatever natural object appeared very 
different from the rest, recognizing therein some peculiar deity. 

A certain tree, for instance, which was cut down by the 
Spaniards, had long been an object of adoration to the Indians, 
on account of its antiquity and size (H. I., b. 5, ch. 5). In an- 
other part of the American continent, the neighborhood of 
Acadia, a traveler tells us of a venerable tree which was like- 
wise holy. Many marvels were recounted of it. and it was 
always loaded with offerings. The sea having washed the soil 
from about its roots, it maintained itself a long time '* almost 
in the air," which confirmed the savages in their notion that 
it was **the seat of some great spirit;" and even after it had 
fallen, its branches, so long as they were visible above the sur- 
face of the water, continued to receive the worship of the people 
(N. P., vol. iii. p. S49). 

Not unfrequently the holy object is an animal, and then it 
may be regarded either as itself a god, or as sacred to some 
god, who either makes it in some sense his abode, or regards 
it with favor and takes it under his care. Among animals, 
there is none more frequently worshiped than the serpent; and 
it has been supposed, with some plausibility, that the Hebrew 
legend of the fall was directed against serpent-worship. How- 
ever this may be, that worship is clearly discernible in the 
story of the brazen serpent which healed the sickness of the 
Israelites in the wilderness (Num. xxi. 8). This would seem to 
be a dim tradition of a time at which the adoration of the ser- 



134 HOLY OBJECTS. 

pent was still practiced by the people of Jehovah. Many other 
countries afford examples of the same worship. To take a 
single case; the Chevalier des Marchais, who traveled in the 
last century, relates that serpents of a certain kind were wor- 
shiped in Guinea. There was one, however, which was called 
the father of these gods, and was reputed to be of prodigious 
size. It was kept in a place of its own, where it had "secret 
apartments," and none but the chief sacrificerwas permitted to 
enter this holy of holies. The king himself might only see it 
once, when, three months after his coronation, he went to pre- 
sent his offerings (V. G., vol. ii. p. 169). 

Even Christianity did not entirely put an end to the wor- 
ship of the serpent; for an early Christian writer, in a treat- 
ise against all heresies, makes mention of a sect of Ophites 
who (he says) "magnify the serpent to such a degree, that thej 
prefer him even to Christ himself; for it was he, they say, who 
gave us the origin of the knowledge of good and evil. His 
power and majesty (they say) Moses perceiving, set up the 
brazen serpent; and whoever gazed upon him obtained health. 
Christ himself (they say further) imitates Moses' serpent's 
sacred power in saying : * And as Moses upreared the serpent in 
the desert, so it behoveth the Son of man to be upreared.' 
Him they introduce to bless their eucharistic [elements] " (Adv. 
omn. haereses., II. — A. N. L., vol. 18, p. 262). 

Holy objects are very often connected with some eminent 
man, from whose relation to them they derive their sanctity. 
Such are all the innumerable relics of saints to which so much 
importance is attached in Catholic countries. Such is that pre- 
eminently sacred relic, the tooth of Buddha, so carefully pre- 
served and guarded in Ceylon. When Major Forbes witnessed 
the. tooth festival at Kandy, fifty-three years had passed since 
the last exhibition of this deeply revered member of the founder 
of the faith. It was kept in its temple within six cases; of 
which the three larger ones having been first removed, the 
three inner ones, containing it, were placed *'on the back of an 
elephant richly caparisoned." It was shown to the people on a 
temporary altar, surrounded with rich hangings; the festival 
being attended by crowds of pious worshipers, who thought 
that the privilege of seeing the tooth, so rarely exhibited to the 



BBEAD AND WINE. 135 

public, was a sufficient proof of the merits they had obtained 
in former lives (E. Y), vol. i. p. 290-293). 

Mussulmans have their holy objects, consisting of verses of 
the Koran, suspended or written on their dwellings, which are 
supposed to insure their protection. Such verses, or short 
Suras, are sometimes carried on the person engraved on stones 
(Dervishes, p. 313). 

Conspicuous among holy objects for the extraordinary virtues 
ascribed to them, are the bread and wine of the Lord's supper. 
These are believed by Christians either to be or to represent 
(according to their several doctrines) the actual flesh and blood 
of Jesus; and the mere fact of eating and drinking them, in 
faith, is held to exercise a mystic efficacy over the life of the 
communicant. A more singular instance of the holiness attrib- 
uted by an act of the imagination to material things can scarcely 
be produced. Another curious case of the same notion is the 
belief in holy water; which enjoys so great a power, that some 
drops of it dashed upon an infant's forehead contribute to en- 
sure its eternal happiness ; while it has also the gift of confer- 
ring some kind of advantage upon the worshipers who, on 
entering a church, sprinkle it upon their persons. 

Images of the gods or saints worshiped in a country form a 
large and important class of holy objects. Such were Ihe "ter- 
aphim " or *'gods" stolen by Rachel from her father, and 
which she concealed in the furniture of her camel (Gen. xxxi. 
19, 30-35). Similar images are employed by the Tartars, who 
place them at the heads and feet of their beds in certain fixed 
positions, and who carry them about with them wherever they 
go (Bergeron, Voyage de Bubruquis, ch. 3, p. 9). 



CHAPTER IV. 

HOLT ORDERS. 

EiTES, acts of worship and sacrifices, originally performed- 
by each individual at his own discretion, or by each house- 
hold in its own way, fall (as we have seen) with advancing 
development into the hands of professional persons conse- 
crated for this especial purpose. Very great importance 
attaches to these consecrated persons. The place they ocoupy 
in all societies above the level of barbarism is one of peculiar 
honor; and their influence on the course of human history has 
in all ages with which that history is acquainted been conspicu- 
ous and profound. Once devoted to their religious duties, they 
become the authorized representatives of deity on earth. In 
treating of their consecration, we consider tbem as channels of 
communication from earth to heaven; we have now to consider 
them as channels of communication from heaven to earth. 

Endowed by the general wish of all human society with a 
special right to convey their petitions to the divine beings 
whom they worship, they do not fail to claim for themselves the 
correlative right of conveying to men the commands, the inten- 
tions, the reproofs, and the desires of these divine beings. It is 
the priests alone who can pretend to know their minds. It is 
the priests alone who can correctly interpret their often enig- 
matic language. It is the priests alone through whom they 
generally deign to converse with mortals. 

Such is the ecclesiastical theory throughout the world; and 
it is as a general rule accepted by the communities for whose 
guidance it is constructed. Exceptions do indeed present them- 
selves, above all in the case of the remarkable men whose 
careers we shall deal with in the ensuing chapter, who have 
founded new religions independently of, or even in spite of, 

136 



PRIVILEGES OF PEIESTS. 137 

very powerful existing priesthoods. And, speaking generally, 
the holy class is not always coextensive with the consecrated 
class. We shall notice further on an important order among 
the Jews who were universally received as holy, without being 
consecrated. Moreover, there has often existed a species of men 
who, without regular consecration, have nevertheless served as 
a channel of communication from God or from inferior spirits 
to man. Such were magicians, astrologers, **et hoc genus 
omne," in ancient times; such are the so-called mediums in 
the present day. Conversely, consecration, though by its very 
nature implying holiness as its correlative, implies it less and 
less as we rise in the scale of culture. Thus, in the more 
advanced forms of Protestantism, such as the Presbyterian or 
the Unitarian, the minister is scarcely more than a mere 
teacher ; he has little or no more power to convey commands or 
intimations from God than any member of his congregation. 
So that we should have a rough approximation to the truth 
were we to say that in the lower grades of religious culture we 
have holy orders without consecration; while in the higher 
grades we have consecrated orders without holiness. 

Between these extremes there lies the great body of- regular 
and qualified priests, appointed to communicate upwards, and 
entitled to communicate downwards. Invasions of their author- 
ity by irregular pretenders are the exceptions, not the rule. It 
is the usual order of things, that the decisions of priests on mat- 
ters pertaining to religion should be accepted in submissive 
faith, by the societies to which they belong. Where, as in the 
case of Jesus of Nazareth, some bold individual brushes aside 
successfully the pretentions of ecclesiastical castes, the theory 
is only modified to suit the individual instance. Ecclesiastical 
castes, deriving their title from the innovator himself, spring 
up again at once ; and differ only in so far as the God whose 
will they expound Is either another God, or a new modification 
of the same God. 

Numerous privileges are generally accorded to priests. 
Sometimes they enjoy exemptions from the operation of the 
ordinary laws; sometimes they are permitted a disproportion- 
ate share in the government of their country; sometimes, with- 
out possessing recognized legislative powers, they control the 



138 HOLT ORDEES. 

destinies of nations by the expression of their views. Often, the 
whole physical force of the government is at their disposal, 
for the propagation and support of the system they uphold; 
occasionally, when their authority has reached its highest point, 
the mere solemn declaration of their commands is enough to 
ensure the acquiescence of monarchs and the obedience of their 
subjects. Corresponding to these considerable rights, they per- 
form a considerable variety of functions, which are regarded by 
the societies who employ them as not only useful, but indis- 
pensable. We find them in all primitive communities acting as 
the recognized doctors of the people^ treating their diseases by 
the method of supernatural inspiration. Eising a little higher, 
they predict that class of events which is so interesting to each 
individual, namely, the prospects of his or her life. In other 
words, they become fortune-tellers, astrologers, or (by whatever 
means) readers of the future. Or they control the weather, 
calling down from heaven the needful rain. They are inspired 
by the deity in whose service they are enrolled, and they an- 
nounce his will. In his name they threaten evil-doers with 
punishment, and promise rewards to the faithful and obedient. 
Benefits from on high are declared to be the lot of those who 
pay them honor. They proclaim the fact that their presence is 
essential to the performance of important rites, and that their 
assistance at these must be duly rewarded. Sometimes they are 
in possession of knowledge which is only permitted to be im- 
parted to their own caste. They are at all times the author- 
ized expositors of theological dogma, and the authorized guar- 
dians of public ritual. 

Let us enter on a more detailed account of these several 
characteristics of the priestly order. 

First, it has to be noted that the differentiation of this order 
from the rest of society is in primitive communities very in- 
complete. Fathers of families, or any venerable and respected 
men, act as priests, and perform the requirements of divine 
worship according to their own notions of propriety. Thus in 
Samoa, Mr. Turner tells us that *' the father of the family was 
the high-priest, and usually offered a short prayer at the evening 
meal, that they might all be kept from fines, sickness, war, and 
death." He also directed on what occasions religious festivals 



PRIMITIVE PRIESTS. 139 

should be held, and it was supposed that the god sometimes 
spoke through the father or another member of the family (N. 
Y., p. 239). So in the. early period of the history of the Israel- 
ites, there was no formal and regular priesthood, and no estab- 
lished ritual. The Levites were not devoted to the functions 
they subsequently discharged, until, in the course of the Exo- 
dus, they had proved their qualification by the holy zeal with 
which they slaughtered their brethren. It was for the perpe- 
tration of this massacre that they were promised by Moses the 
blessing of God (Exod. xxxii. 25-29). With advancing culture, 
the necessity for separating priests from laymen is always felt. 
The ministrations of unskilled hands are not held to be suffi- 
cient. Kitual grows fixed; and for a fixed ritual there must be 
a special apprenticeship. Ceremonies multiply; and the orig- 
inal family prayer having grown into a more elaborate system 
of worship, takes more time, and demands the attention of a 
class who make this, and kindred matters, their exclusive occu- 
pation. 

While, however, the ministers of the gods are thus differen- 
tiated from the people at large, they are not differentiated until 
a later stage from the ministers of the human body. Medicine 
and priestcraft are for a long time united arts. On this con- 
nection, Brinton very justly remarks, that ^*when sickness is 
looked upon as the effect of the anger of a god, or as the 
malicious infliction of a sorcerer, it is natural to seek help from 
those who assume to control the unseen world, and influence 
the fiats of the Almighty" (M. N. W., p. 264). Thus in America 
the native priests were called by the European colonists, " med- 
icine men." The New Zealand priests were " expert jugglers," 
and when called in to the sick would ascribe some diseases to a 
piece of wood lodged in the stomach; this they pretended to 
extract, and produced it in evidence of their assertion. An ac- 
quaintance of the author from whom I borrow this fact, saw 
one of these doctors tear open the leg of a rheumatic patient, 
and (apparently) take out of it a knotted piece of wood (N. Z., 
p. 80). In the Fiji islands they occasionally use their medical 
powers malevolently, instead of benevolently. In Tanna, there 
was a class of men termed "disease -makers," and greatly 
dreaded by the people, who thought that these men could exer- 



140 HOLY OBDEES. 

cise the power of life and death, the calamity of death being 
the result of burning rubbish belonging to the sufferer. When 
a Tannese was ill, he believed that the disease-maker was burn- 
ing his rubbish, and would send large presents to induce him 
to stop ; for if it were all burned he would die (N. Y. p. 89-91). 
The Samoans believed disease to be the result of divine wrath, 
and sought its remedy at the hands of the high-priest of the 
village. Whatever he might demand was given ; in some cases, 
however, he did not ask for anything, but merely commanded 
the family of the patient to "confess, and throw out.'* Con- 
fessing, and throwing out, consisted of a statement by each 
member of the family of the crimes he had committed, or of 
the evil he had invoked on the patient or his connections, ac- 
companied by the ceremony of spurting out water from the 
mouth towards him (N. Y., p. 224). Like the Fijians, the natives 
of Australia employ priests to cure their illnesses. Their eccle- 
siastical practitioners " perform incantations over the sick," and 
also pretend to suck out the disease, producing a piece of bone 
which they assert to be its cause (S. L. A., p. 226). The Afri- 
cans have an exactly similar belief in the influence of fetish 
over disease. Keade observes that epileptic attacks are (as is 
natural from their mysterious character) ascribed to demoniacal 
possession, and that fetish-men are called in to cure them. This 
they attempt to accomplish by elaborate dances and festivities, 
**at the expense of the next of kin," which sometimes end in 
driving the patient into the bush in a state of complete insan- 
ity. When cured, he '* builds a little fetish-house, avoids cer- 
tain kinds of food, and performs certain duties " (S. A., p. 251). 
The negroes on the coast of Guinea, when ill, apply to their 
priest, who informs them what offerings are required to ensure 
their recovery (D. C. G., p. 213). When an Amazulu is troubled 
by bad dreams, he applies to a diviner, who recommends cer- 
tain ceremonies by which the spirit causing the dreams is sup- 
posed to be banished. Should he be ill, his friends apply to the 
diviner, who discovers the source of the illness, and probably 
demands the sacrifice of a bullock. A remarkable sensitiveness 
about the shoulders mdicates the spiritual character of the doc- 
tor. If he fail to remove disease, he is said to have no "It- 
ongo," or spirit, in him (K. S. A., pt. ii. pp. 159, 160, 172). The 



PBIESTS AS DOCTORS. 141 

Fida negroe- sent to consult their divine snake through a priest 
when ill, and the priest (unless he announced that the disease 
would be fatal) received a reward for indicating the remedies to 
be used. Moreover, the priests were the physicians of the ne- 
groes. Two theories prevailed among the people as to the ori- 
gin of illnesses. Some tribes held them to be due to evil spirits, 
who were accordingly driven away by a prescribed system of 
armed pursuit. But the priests in other places regarded them 
as a consequence of discord between spirit and soul, and required 
the patient in the first instance to confess his sins. This being 
done, they obtain from their deity an indication of the offerings 
to be made, or the vows to be fulfilled, to restore mental har- 
mony. They then undertook the treatment of the body by 
physical means (G. d. M., pp. 335, 336). In Sierra Leone, as in 
other parts of Africa, "the practice of medicine, and the art of 
making greegrees and fetishes, in other words, amulets . . . 
is generally the province of the same person." Those who 
practice medicine are looked upon as witches, and believed not 
only to converse with evil spirits, but to exercise control over 
them (N. A., vol. i. p. 251). In New France, in the eighteenth 
century, the principal occupation of the native priests was medi- 
cine (N. F. vol. iii. p. 364). In Mexico, the people came from 
all parts to the priests to be annoiuted with the peculiar un- 
gent used in the special consecration mentioned above (Supra, 
p. 116). This they termed a '* divine physic," and considered as 
a cure for their diseases (H. I., b. 5, ch. 26). 

Such rude notions as these, implying a supernatural as op- 
. posed to a natural thory of the physical conditions of the body, 
are not wholly extinct even among ourselves. They exist, like 
so many of the crude conceptions of the savage, in the form of 
respected survivals wholly inconsistent with our practical habits. 
True, we do not call in the clergyman to assist or to direct at 
the sick-bed. But we do ask him to put up prayers for the 
recovery of the sick ; and in the case of royal princes, the clergy 
throughout the land are set to work to induce the divine Being 
to give their illnesses a favorable turn. Now, this proceeding, 
however disguised under refined and imposing forms, is practi- 
cally on a level with that of the Amazulu, who seeks to pacify 
the offended spirit that has attacked him with pain by the sac- 



142 HOLT OBDERS. 

rifice of a bullock; or with that of the Fijian who, when his 
friend is ill, blows a shell for hours as a call to the disease- 
maker to stop burning the sick man's rubbish, and as a sign 
that presents will speedily reach his hands. Nay, the very mis- 
sionary who relates this Fiji custom gives at least one proof of 
his fitness to understand the native mind, in a passage showing 
that in reference to beliefs like these his own was almost on a 
par with it. A war, of which the missionaries disapproved, had 
been going on for four months, ** and the end of it was, the war 
was raised against ourselves. After they had been fighting for 
months among themselves, contrary to all our entreaties, God 
commenced to punish them with a deadly epidemic in the form 
of dysentery." Now, the conviction that diseases are punish- 
ments sent by some god, or at any rate direct results of an 
intention on the part of some god to harm the sufferer, is 'at 
the root of the priestly, as opposed to the scientific, treatment. 
For if God punishes with a deadly epidemic, it is an obvious 
inference that the mode of cure and of prevention is not to take 
physical remedies, and observe physical precautions, but to 
avoid the sin for which the punishment is given. And this is 
the common conclusion of the savage and the Christian, though 
the superior information of the Christian renders his conduct 
self-contradictory and confused, where that of the savage is 
logical and simple. 

Nearly related to the supposed influence of priests over phys- 
ical suffering, is their supposed power to foretell the future. 
Here, however, a number of unauthorized and schismatic priest- 
hoods often enter into competition with those sanctioned by the 
state. Technically, they would not be termed priests at all ; but 
tested by the true mark of priesthood, the gift, alleged by them- 
selves and admitted by others, of forming channels of commu- 
nication from the celestial powers to man, they are entitled to 
that name, and this although they may perhaps receive no reg- 
ular consecration to their office. The Koman Senate during the 
Empire came into frequent collision with these irregular priests. 
It endeavored from time to time to combat the growing belief 
in the unorthodox practices of astrologers and magi, by decree- 
ing their expulsion from Italy, and occasionally by visiting some 
of them with severer penalties ; but such endeavors to stem the 



DIVINERS. 143 

tide of popular superstition are naturally useless (Tac. Ann., ii. 
32; xii. 52). Magic of some description is universal. In New- 
Zealand the priest *' seems to unite in his person the offices of 
priest, sorcerer, juggler, and physician." He predicts the life or 
death of members of his tribe (N. Z., p. 80). By the Kafirs the 
prophet is consulted on all kinds of domestic occasions, and 
(while the people beat the ground in assent to what he says) he 
is held to see in a vision the event which has led to the consul- 
tation (K. N., p. 167 ff). The inhabi(ants of Sierra Leone have 
other methods of divining. Their diviners make dots and lines 
in sand spread upon a goat's skin, which dots and lines they 
afterwards decipher; or they place palm-nuts in heaps upon 
a goat's skin, and by shifting them about suppose that an an- 
swer is obtained (N. A., vol. i. p. 134). The heathen Mexican 
had the habit, on the birth of a child, of consulting a diviner 
in order to ascertain its future. The diviner, having learnt from 
the child's parents the hour at which it was born, turned over 
his books to discover the sign under which its nativity had 
occurred. Should that sign prove to be favorable, he would say 
to the parents: "Your child has been born under a good sign; 
it will be a senor, or senator, or rich, or brave," or will have 
some other distinction. In the opposite case he would say: 
"The child has not been born under a good sign; it has been 
born under a disastrous sign." In some circumstances there 
was hope that the evil might be remedied ; but if the sign were 
altogether bad, they would predict that it would be vicious, 
carnal, and a thief; or that it would be dull and lazy; or pos- 
sibly that it would be a great drunkard; or that its life would 
be short. A third alternative was when the sign was indifferent, 
and the expected fortune was therefore partly good and partly 
bad. The diviner, in this case and in that of a bad, but «ot 
hopelessly bad, sign, assisted the parents by pointing out an aus- 
picious day for the baptism of the infant (A. M., vol. v. pp. 
479, 480). 

Prediction of coming events was practiced by the priests in 
North America, as it was elsewhere. They pursuaded the mul- 
titude, says Cliarlevoix, that they suffered from ecstatic trans- 
ports. During these conditions, they said that their spirits 
gave them a large acquaintance with remote things, and with 



lU HOLY OEDEBS. 

the future (N. F., vol. iii. p. 347). Moreover, they practiced 
magic, and with such effect that Charlevoix felt himself com- 
pelled to ascribe their performances to their alliance with the 
devil. They even pretended to be born in a supernatural man- 
ner, and found believers ready to think that only by some sort 
of enchantment and illusion had they formerly imagined that 
they had come into the world like other people. When they 
went into the state of ecstasy, they resembled the Pythoness on 
the tripod ; they assumed tones of voice and performed actions 
which seemed beyond human capacity. On these occasions they 
suffered so much that it was hard to induce them, even by 
handsome payment, thus to yield themselves to the spirit. So 
often did they prophesy truly, that Charlevoix can only resort 
again to his hypothesis of a real intercourse between them and 
the *^father of seduction and of lies," who manifested his connec- 
tion with them by telling them the truth. Thus, a lady named 
Madame de Marson, by no means an "esprit faible," was 
anxious about her husband, who was commanding at a Erench 
outpost in Acadia, and who had stayed away beyond the time 
fixed for his return. A native woman, having ascertained the 
reason of her trouble, told her not to be distressed, for that 
her husband would return on a certain day at a certain hour, 
wearing a grey hat. Seeing that the lady did not believe in 
her, she returned on the day and at the hour named, and asked 
her if she would not come to meet her husband. After much 
pressing, she induced the lady to accompany her to the bank 
of the river. Scarcely had they arrived, when M. de Marson 
appeared in a canoe, wearing a grey hat upon his head. The 
writer was informed of this fact by Madame de Marson's son- 
in-law, at that time Governor-General of the French dominions 
in America, who had heard it from herself (N. F., vol. iii. p. 
359-363). The priests of the Tartars are also their diviners. 
They predict eclipses, and announce lucky and unlucky days 
for all sorts of business (Bergeron, Voyage de Kubruquis, ch. 47). 
Among the Buddhist priesthood of Thibet, there is a class 
of Lamas who are astrologers, distinguished by a peculiar dress, 
and making it their business to tell fortunes," exorcise evil 
spirits, and so forth. The astrologers '*are considered to have 
intercourse with Sadag," a spirit who is supposed to be " lord 



DIVINEES AND ASTROLOGERS. 115 

of the ground," in which bodies are interred, and who, along 
with other spirits, requires to be pacified by charms and rites 
known only to these priests. To prevent them from injuring 
the dead, the relations offer a price in cattle or money to Sadag ; 
and the astrologers, when satisfied with the amount, undertake 
the necessary conjuration (B. T., pp. 156, 271). 

In the Old Testament, this class of unofficial priests is men- 
tioned with the reprobation inspired by rivalry. The Hebrew 
legislator is at one with the Eoman Senate in his desire to expel 
them from the land. "There shall not be found among you any 
one that . . . useth divination, or an observer of times, or an 
enchanter, or a witch, or a charmer, or a consultor with familiar 
spirits, or a wizard, or a necromancer. For all that do these 
things are an abomination unto the Lord : and because of these 
abominations the Lord thy God doth drive them out from 
before thee " (Deut. xviii. 10-12). The very prohibition evinces 
the existence of the objects against whom it is aimed; and 
proves that, along with the recognized worship of Jehovah, 
there existed an unrecognized resort to practices which the 
sterner adherents of that worship would not permit. 

In addition to their claim to be in possession of special 
means of ascertaining the occult causes of phenomena (as in ill- 
ness), and of special contrivances for penetrating the future (as 
in astrology or fortune-telling), priesthoods pretend to a more 
direct inspiration from on high, qualifying them either to an- 
nounce the will of their god on exceptional occasions, or to in- 
timate his purpose 'in matters of more ordinary occurrence. 
This inspiration was granted to the native North American 
priests at the critical age of puberty, *' It was revealed to its 
possessor by the character of the visions he perceived at the 
ordeal he passed through on arriving at puberty; and by the 
northern nations was said to be the manifestation of a m^re 
potent personal spirit than ordinary. It was not a faculty, but 
an inspiration; not an inborn strength, but a spiritual gift" 
(M. N. W., p. 279). So in India; among the several meanings 
of the word Brahman, is that of a person *' elected by special 
divine favor to receive the gift of inspiration " (0. S. T., vol. i. 
p. 259). The missionary Turner, who has an eye for parallel?, 
observes, among other just reflections, that **the way in which 



146 HOLY OEDERS. 

the Samoan priests declared that the gods spoke by them, 
strikingly reminds us of the mode by which God of old made 
known his will to man by the Hebrew prophets " (N. Y., p. 349). 
Although the Levites were said to be the Lord's, and to have 
been hallowed by him instead of all the first-born of Israel, yet 
it does not appear that they were in general endowed with any 
high order of inspiration. The high-priest no doubt received 
communications from God by the Urim and Thummim. Priests 
were also the judges whom the Lord chose, and whose sentence 
in court was to be obeyed on penaltv of death ; but the inspir- 
ation that was fitted to guide the Israelites was supplied not so 
much by them as by the prophets, a kind of supplementary 
priesthood of which the members, sometimes priests, sometimes 
consecrated by other prophets, were as a rule unconsecrated, 
deriving their appointment directly from Jehovah. While, 
therefore, it was attained in a somewhat unusual way, the gen- 
eral need of an inspired order was supplied no less perfectly 
among the Israelites than elsewhere. Christian priests enjoy 
two kinds of inspiration. In the first place, they are inspired 
specially when assembled in general councils, to declare the 
truth in matters of doctrine, or in other words, to issue supple- 
mentary revelations; in the second place, they are inspired 
generally to remit or retain offenses, their sentence being — 
according to the common doctrine of Catholics and Episcopalian 
Protestants — always ratified in the Court above. 

Consistently with this exalted conception of their authority, 
priestly orders threaten punishment to offenders, and announce 
the future destiny of souls. Thus the Mexican priests warned 
their penitents after confession not to fall again into sin, hold- 
ing out the prospect of the torments of hell if they should 
neglect the admonition (A, M., vol. v. p. 370). The priests in 
some parts of Africa know the fate of each soul after death, and 
can say whether it has gone to God or to the evil spirit (G. d. 
M., p. 335). 

Sometimes the priests are held to be protected against injury 
by the especial care of heaven. To take away a Brahman's 
wife is an offense involving terrible calamities, while kings who 
restore her to the Brahman enjoy " the abundance of the 
earth" (0. S. T., vol. i. p. 257). A king who should eat a Brah- 



THEIR FUNCTIONS. U7 

man's cow is warned in solemn language of the dreadful conse- 
quences of such conduct, both in this world and the next (Ibid., 
vol. i. p. 285). The sacred volumes declare that " whenever a 
king, fancying himself mighty, seeks to devour a Brahman, 
that kingdom is broken up, in which a Brahman is oppressed '* 
(Ibid., vol. i. p. 287). "No one who has eaten a Brahman's cow 
continues to watch (i.e., to rule) over a country." The Indian 
gods, moreover, "do not eat the food offered by a king who 
has no . . . Purohita," or domestic chaplain (A. B., p. 528). 
The murder of a king who had honored and enriched the Bud- 
dhist priesthood, is said to have entailed the destruction of the 
power and strength of the kingdom of Thibet, and to have 
extinguished the happiness and welfare of its people (G. O. M., 
p. S62). And Jewish history affords abundant instances of the 
manner in which the success or glory of the rulers was con- 
nected, by the sacerdotal class, with the respect shown towards 
themselves as the ministers of Jehovah, and with the rigor 
evinced in persecuting or putting down the ministers of every 
other creed. That the same bias has been betrayed by the 
Christian priesthood and their adherents in the interpretation 
of history needs no proof. 

The presence of a priest or priests at important rites is held 
to be indispensable by all religions. With the negroes visited 
by Oldendorp, the priest was in requisition at burials; for he 
only could help the soul to get to God, and keep off the evil 
spirit who would seek to obtain possession of it (G. d. M., p. 
327). *'Eor most of the ceremonies" (in Thibet) "the perform- 
ance by a Lama is considered indispensable to its due effect; 
and even where this is not so, the efficacy of the rite is 
increased by the Lama's assistance (B. T., p. 247). Much the 
same thing may be said here. For certain ceremonies, such as 
confirmation, the administration of the sacrament, the conduct 
of divine service on Sundays, the priest is a necessary ofiQcial. 
For others, such as marriage, the majority of the people prefer 
to employ him, and no doubt believe that " the efficacy of the 
rito is increased " by the fact that he reads the words of the 
service. Nor is this surprising when we consider that, until 
within very recent times, no legitimate child could be produced 
in England without the assistance of a priest. 



148 HOLY OBDEES. 

Not only is the ecclesiastical caste required to render relig- 
ious rites aceptable to the deity, but they are often endowed 
with the attribute of ability to modify the course of nature. 
Tanna, one of the Fiji group, *' there are rain-makers and 
thunder-makers, and fly and musquito makers, and a host of 
other ' sacred men;"' and in another island "there is a rain- 
making class of priests" (N. Y., pp. 89, 428). In Christian 
countries all priests are rain-makers, the readiog of prayers for 
fine or wet weather being a portion of their established duties. 

Naturally, the members of a class whose functions are of 
this high value to the community enjoy great power, are 
regarded as extremely sacred, and above all, are well rewarded. 
First, as to the power they enjoy. This is accorded to them 
alike by savage tribes and by cultivated Europeans. According 
to Brinton, all North American tribes "appear to have been 
controlled" by secret societies of priests. "Withal," says the 
same authority, " there was no class of persons who so widely 
and de.eply influenced the culture, and shaped the destiny of 
the Indian tribes, as their priests" (M. N. W., p. 285). Over 
the negroes of the Caribbean Islands the priests and priestesses 
exercised an almost unlimited dominion, being regarded with 
the greatest reverence. No negro would have ventured to 
transgress the arrangements made by a priest (G. d. M., p. 327). 
On the coast of Guinea there exists, or existed, an institution 
by which certain women became priestesses; and such women, 
even though slaves before, enjoyed, on receiving this dignity, a 
high position and even exercised absolute authority precisely in 
the quarter where it must Lave been sweetest to their minds, 
namely, over their husbands (D. C. G., p. 363). Writing of the 
Talapoins in Siam, Gervaise says, that they are exempted from 
all public charges; they salute nobody, while everybody pros- 
trates himself before them ; they are maintained at the public 
expense, and so forth (H, N. S., troisieme partie, chs. 5, 6). Of 
the. enormous power wielded by the clerical order in Europe, 
especially during the Middle Ages, it is unnecessary to speak. 
The humiliation of Theodosius by Ambrose was one of the 
most conspicuous, as it was one of the most beneficent, exer- 
cises of their extensive rights. 

Secondly, the sanctity attached to their persons is usually 



THEIB POWER AND SANCTITY. 141) 

considerable, and may often, to ambitious minds, afford a large 
compensation for the loss (if such be required) of some kinds of 
secular enjoyment. The African priestesses just mentioned are 
"as much respected as the priest, or rather more," and call 
themselves by the appellation of "God's children." When cer- 
tain .Buddhist ecclesiastics were executed for rebellion in Cey- 
lon, the utmost astonishment was expressed by the people at 
the temerity of the king in so treating "such holy and reverend 
persons. And none heretofore," adds the reporter of the fact, 
"have been so served; being reputed and called sons of Boddon'" 
(H. B. ,C., p. 75), or Buddha; a title exactly corresponding to 
that of God's children bestowed upon the priestesses. In Siam 
the "Talapoins," or priests, are of two kinds: secular, living m 
the world; and regular, living in the forest without intercourse 
with men. There is no limit to the veneration given by the 
Siamese to these last, whom they look upon as demigods (H. N. 
S., troisieme pariie, p. 184). " The Brahman caste," according 
to the sacred books of the Hindus, "is sprung from the gods " 
(O. S. T., vol. i. p. 21); and the exceptional honor always 
accorded to them -is in harmony with this theory of their 
origin. The title "Keverend,".man to be revered, given to the 
clergy in Europe, implies the existence, at least originally, of a 
similar sentiment of respect. 

Lastly, the services of priests are generally well rewarded, • 
and they themselves take every care to encourage liberality 
towards their order. Payment is made to them either in the 
shape of direct remuneration, or in that of exceptional pecu- 
niary privileges, or in that of exemptions from burdens. 
Direct remuneration may be, and often is, given in the shape 
of a fixed portion abstracted from the property of the laity for 
the benefit of the clergy. Such are the tithes bestowed by law 
upon the latter among the Jews, the Parsees, and the Chris- 
tians. Or, direct remuneration may consist in fees for services 
rendered, and in voluntary gifts. Such fees and gifts are always 
represented by the priesthood as highly • advantageous to the 
givers. If the relatives of a deceased Parsee do not give the 
priest who officiates at the funeral four new robes, the dead 
will appear naked before the throne of God at the resurrection, 
and will be put to shame before the whole assembly (Av., vol. 



150 HOLY ORDERS. 

ii. p. xli. ; iii. p. xliv). Moreover, those Parsees who wish to 
live happily, and have children who will do them honor, must 
pay four priests, who during three days and three nights per- 
form the Yasna for them (Z. A., vol., ii. p. 564). In Thibet 
there is great merit in consecrating a domestic animal to a cer- 
tain god, the animal being after a certain time "delivered to 
the Lamas, who may eat it" (B. T., p. 158). Giving alms to the 
monks is a duty most sedulously inculcated by Buddhism, and 
the Buddhist writings abound in illustrations of the advantages 
derived from the practice. Similar benefits accrue to the 
clergy from the custom, prevailing in Ceylon, of making offer- 
ings in the temples for recovery from sickness ; for when the 
Singhalese have left their gift on the altar, "the priest presents 
it with all due ceremony to the god ; and after its purpose is 
thus served, very prudently converts it to his own use " (A I. 
C, p. 205). Of the Levites it is solemnly declared in Deuteron- 
omy that they have "no part nor inheritance with Israel," 
and that "the Lord is their inheritance." But "the Lord" is 
soon seen to be a very substantial inheritance indeed. From 
those that offer an ox or a sheep the priests are to receive 
"the shoulder, the two cheeks, and the maw;" while the 
first-fruits of corn, wine, and oil, and the first of the sheep's 
fleeces are to be given to them (Deut . xviii. 1-5). Moreover, 
giving to the priest is declared to be the same thing as giving 
to the Lord (Num. v. 8). A similar notion, always fostered by 
ecclesiastical influence, has led to the vast endowments bestowed 
by pious monarchs and wealthy individuals upon the Christian 
clergy. 

Occasionally, the priests enjoy exemptions from the taxes, or 
other burdens levied upon ordinary people. A singular instance 
of this is found in the privilege of the Parsee priests, of not 
paying their doctors (J. A., vol. ii. p. 555). Large immunities 
used to be enjoyed by ecclesiastics among ourselves, especially 
that of exemption from the jurisdiction of the ordinary courts 
of law. 

While the life of a priest often entails certain privations, he 
is nevertheless frequently sustained by the thought that there 
is merit in the sacrifices he makes. Thus, it is held by a Bud- 
dhist authority, that the merit obtained by entering the spiritual 



THEIR PRIVILEGES. 151 

order is very great; and that his merit is. immeasurable who 
either permits a son, a daughter, or a slave, to enter it, or 
enters it himself (W. u. T., p. 107). 

Priesthoods may either be hereditary or selected. The Brah- 
mins in India, and the Levites in Judsea, are remarkable types 
of hereditary, the Buddhist and the Christian clergy of selected, 
sacerdotal orders. Curious modifications of the hereditary prin- 
ciple were found among the American Indians. Thus, "among 
the Nez Perces of Oregon," the priestly office "was transmitted 
in one family from father to son and daughter, but always with 
. the proviso that the children at the proper age reported dreams 
of a satisfactory character." The Shawnees "confined it to one 
totem :" but just as the Hebrew prophets need not be Levites, 
**the greatest of their prophets . . . was not a member of 
this clan." The Cherokees "had one family set apart for the 
priestly office," and when they "abused their birthright"- and 
were all massacred, another family took their places. With an- 
other tribe, the Choctaws, the office of high-priest remained in 
one family, passing from father to son; "and the very influen- 
tial piaches of the Oarib tribes very generally transmitted their 
rank and position to their children." A piore important case 
of hereditary priesthood is that of the Incas of Peru, who mo- 
nopolized the highest offices both in Church and State. "In 
ancient Anahuac" there existed a double system of inheritance 
and selection, The priests of Huitzilopochtli, "and perhaps a 
few other gods," were hereditary; and the high-priest of that 
god, towards whom the whole order was required to observe im- 
plicit obedience, was the " hereditary pontifix maximus." But 
the rest were dedicated to ecclesiastical life from early child- 
hood, and were carefully educated for the profession (M. N. W., 
p. 281-291). 

Christianity entirely abandoned the hereditary principle prev- 
alent among its spiritual ancestors, the Jews, and selected for 
its ministers of religion those who felt, or professed to feel, an 
internal vocation for this career. Doubtless this is the most 
effectual plan for securing a powerful priesthood. Those who 
belong to it have their heart far more thoroughly in their work 
than can possibly be the case when it falls to them by right of 
birth. Just the most priestly-minded of the community become 



152 ' HOLY OEDERS. 

priests: and a far greater air of zeal and of sanctity attaches 
to an order thus maintained, than to one of which many of the 
members possess no qualification but that of family, tribe, or 
caste. 

Nothing can be more irrational than the denunciation of 
priests and priestcraft which is often indulged in by Liberal 
writers and politicians. If it be true that priests have shown 
considerable cunning, it is also true that the people have fos- 
tered that cunning by credulity. And if the clergy have put 
forth very large pretensions to inspiration, divine authority, and 
hidden knowledge, it is equally the fact that the laity have de- 
manded such qualifications at their hands. An order can 
scarcely be blamed if it seeks to satisfy the claims which the 
popular religion makes upon it. Enlightenment from heaven 
has in all ages and countries been positively demanded. Sacri- ' 
fices have always had to be made ; and when it was found more 
convenient to delegate the function of offeriug them to a class 
apart, that class naturally established ritualistic rules of their 
own, and as naturally asserted (and no doubt believed) that all 
sacrifices not offered according to these rules were displeasing 
to God. And they could not i^rofess the inspiration which they 
were expected to manifest without also requiring obedience to 
divine commands. Priests are, in fact, the mere outcome of 
religious belief as it commonly exists; and partly minister to 
that belief by deliberate trickery, partly share it themselves, 
and honestly accept the accredited view of their own lofty com- 
mission. 

Divine inspiration leads by a very logical process to infalli- 
bility. A Church founded on revelation needs living teachers to 
preserve the correct interpretation of that revelation. Without 
such living teachers, revealed truth itself becomes (as it always 
has done among Protestants) an occasion of discord and of 
schism. But the interpreters of revelation in their turn must 
be able to appeal to some sole and supreme authority, as the 
arbiter between varying opinions, and the guide to be followed 
through all the intricacies of dogma. Nowhere can such an ar- 
biter and such a guide be found more naturally than in the 
head of the Church himself. If God speaks to mankind through 
his Church, it is only a logical conclusion that within that Church 



INFALLIBILITY. I53 

there must be one through whom he speaks with absolute cer- 
tainty, and whose prophetic voice must therefore be infallible. 
There cannot be a more consistent application of the general 
theory of priesthood; and there is no more fatal sign for the 
prospects of Christianity than the inability of many of its sup- 
porters to accept so useful a doctrine, and the thoughtless in- 
dignation of some among them against the single Church which 
has had the wisdom to proclaim it. 



CHAPTER V. 



HOLT PERSONS. 



Although for the ordinary and regular communications from 
the divine Being to man the established priesthoods might suf- 
fice, yet occasions arise when there is need of a plenipotentiary 
with higher authority and more extensive powers. What is 
required of these exceptional ambassadors is not merely to re- 
peat the doctrines of the old religion, but to establish a new 
one. In other words, they are the original founders of the 
great religions of the world. Of such founders there is but a 
very limited number. 

Beginning w'ith China, and proceeding from East to West, we 
find six: — 

1. Confucius, or Khung-fu-tsze, the founder of Confucianism. 

2. Lao-tse, the "founder of Taouism. 

3. Saktamuni, or Gautama Buddha, the founder of Budd- 
hism. 

4. Zarathustra, or Zoroaster, the founder of Parseeism. 

5. Mohammed, or Mahomet, the founder of Islamism. 

6. Jesus Christ, the founder of Christianity. 

All these men, whom for convenience' sake I propose to call 
prophets, occupy an entirely exceptional position in the history 
of the human race. The characteristics, or marks, by which 
they may be distinguished from other great men, are partly 
external, belonging to the views of others about them; partly 
internal, belonging to their own view about themselves. 

1. The first external mark by which they are distinguished 
is, that within his own religion each of these is recognized as 
the highest known authority. They alone are thought of as 
having the right to change what is established. While all other 
teachers appeal to them for the sanction of their doctrines 

164 



EXTERNAL MARKS. 155 

there is no api^eal from them to any one beyond. What they 
have said is final. They are in perfect possession of the truth. 
Others are in possession of it only in so far as they agree with 
them. No doubt, the sacred books are equally infallible with 
the prophets; but the sacred books of religions founded by 
prophets derive their authority in the last resort from them, 
aiid are always held to be only a written statement of their 
teaching. Thus, the sacred books of China are partly of direct 
Confucian authorship; partly by others who recognize him as 
their head. The only sacred book of the Tao-tse is by their 
founder himself. The sacred books of the Buddhists are sup- 
posed discourses of the Buddha. The AVesta is the reputed 
work of Zarathustra. The Koran is the actual work of Mahomet. 
And lastly, the New Testament is all of it written in express 
subordination to the authority of Christ, to which it constantly 
appeals. These books, then, are infallible, because they contain 
the doctrines of their founders. 

The same thing is true where there is an infallible Church. 
The Church never claims the same absolute authority as it con- 
cedes to its prophet. Its infallibility consists in its power to 
interpret correctly the mind of him by whom it was established. 
He it is who brought the message from above, which no human 
power could have discovered. It is the Church's f imction to ex- 
plain that message to the world; and, where needed, to deduce 
such inferences therefrom as by its supernatural inspiration it 
perceives to be just. Beyond this, the power of the Church 
does not extend. 

A second external mark, closely related to the first, is, that 
the prophet of each religion is, within the limits of that relig- 
ion, the object of a more or less mythical delineation of his 
personality. His historical form is, to some extent, superseded 
by the form bestowed upon him by a dogmatic legend. Accord- 
ing to that legend there was something about his nature that 
was more than human. He was in some way extraordinary. 
The myths related vary from a mere exaltation of the common 
features of humanity, to the invention of completely supernat- 
ural attributes. But their object is the same : to represent their 
prophet as more highly endowed than other mortals. Even 
where there is little of absolute myth, the representation we 



156 HOLY PERSONS. 

receive is one-sided ; we know nothing of the prophet's faults, 
except in so far as we may discover them against the will of the 
biographers. To them he appears all-virtuous. These remarks 
will be abundantly illustrated when we come to consider the 
life of Jesus, and to compare it with that of his compeers. 

2. The internal mark corresponds to the first external mark, 
of which it is indeed the subjective counterpart. These prophets 
conceive themselves deputed to teach a faith, and they virtually 
recognize in the performance of this mission no human author- 
ity superior to their own. In words, perhaps, they do acknowl- 
edge some established authority; but in fact they set it aside. 
No Church or priesthood has the smallest weight with them, as 
opposed to that intense internal conviction which appears to 
them an inspiration. Hence it was observed of Jesus, that he 
taught with authority, and not as the scribes. Without being 
able themselves to give any explanation of the fact, they feel 
themselves endowed with plenary power to reform. And it is 
not, like other reformers, in the name of another that they do 
this; they reform in their own right, and with no other title 
than their own profound consciousness of being not only per- 
mitted, but charged to do it. 

Nevertheless, it must not be imagined that the prophets 
sweep away everything they find in the existing religion. On 
the contrary, it will be found on examination that they always 
retain some important element or elements of the older faith. 
Without this, they would have no hold on the popular mind of 
their country, from which they would be too far removed to 
make themselves understood. Thus, Allah was already recog- 
nized as God by the Arabians in the time of Mahomet, whose 
reform consisted in teaching that he was the only God. Thus, 
the Messiah was already expected by the Jews in the time of 
Jesus, whose reform consisted in applying the expectation- to 
hin^seJf. Prophets take advantage of a faith already in exist- 
ence, and making that the foundation of a new religion, erect 
upon it the more special truths they are inspired to proclaim. 

No prophet can construct a religion entirely from his own 
brain. Were he to do so, he would be unable to show any rea- 
son why it should be accepted. There would be no feeling in 
the minds of his hearers to which he could appeal. A religion 



CONFUCIUS. 157 

to be accepted by any but an insignificant fraction, must find 
a response not only in the intellects, but in the emotions of 
those for whom it is designed. 

This, it appears to me, is the weak point of Positivism. 
August^ Comte, having abolished all that in the general mind 
constitutes religion at all, attempted to compose a faith for 
his disciples by the merely arbitrary exercise of his own inge- 
nuity. He perhaps did not consider that in all history there is 
no example of , a religion being invented by an individual 
thinker. It is like attempting to sell a commodity for which 
there is no demand. Even if his philosophical principles should 
be accepted by the whole of Europe, there can be no reason 
•why the special observances he recommends should be adopted, 
or the special saints whom he places in the calendar be adored. 
Those who receive his philosophy will have no need for his cere- 
monies. While even if ceremonies cannot be entirely dis- 
pensed with ; it is not the mere fact of a solitary thinker plan- 
ning it in his own mind that can ever ensure the adoption of a 
ritual. 

Very different has been the procedure of the prophets of 
whom we are now to speak. Intellectually, they were no doubt 
far inferior to the founder of the Positive Philosophy. But 
emotionally, they were fitted for the part which he unsuccess- 
fully endeavored to play. They entered into the religious feel- 
ings of their countrymen, and gave those feelings a higher 
expression than had yet been found for them. Instinctively fix- 
ing on some conspicuous part of the old religion, they made 
that the starting-point for the development of the new. They 
reformed, but the reformation linked itself to some conviction 
that was already deeply rooted in the nature of their converts. 
They assumed boundless authority ; but it was authority to pro- 
claim a pre-existing truth, not to spin out of their purely per- 
sonal ideas of fitness a system altogether disconnected from-the 
past evolution of religion, and to impose that system upon the 
remainder of mankind. 

Section I.— Confucius.* 

The life of the prophet of China is not eventful. It has 

•After some hesitation. I have determined to adhere to the Latinized 



158 HOLY PERSONS. 

neither the charm of philosophic placidity and retirement from 
the world which belongs to that of Lao-tse, nor the romantic 
interest of the more varied careers of Sakyamuni, Christ, or 
Mahomet. For Confucius, though a philosopher, did not object, 
indeed rather desired, to take some share in the government of 
his country, but his wishes received very little gratification. 
Eulers refused to acquiesce in his principles oi administration, 
and he was compelled to rely for their propagation mainly on 
the oral instruction imparted to his disciples. His life, there- 
fore, bears to some extent the aspect of a failure, though for 
this appearance he himself is not to blame. Another cause, 
which somewhat diminishes the interest we might otherwise 
take in him, is his excessive attention to proprieties, ceremo- 
nies, and rites. We cannot but feel that a truly great man, 
even in China, would have emancipated himself from the bond- 
age of such trifles. Nevertheless, after all deductions are made, 
enough remains to render the career and character of Confucius 
deserving of attention, and in many respects of admiration. 

Descended from a family which had formerly been powerful 
and noble, but was now in comparatively modest circumstances, 
he was born in b.c. 551, his father's name being Shuh-leang 
Heih, and his mother's Ching-Tsae. The legends related of his 
nativity I pass over for the present. His father, who was an 
old man when he was born, died when the child was in his 
third year; and his mother in b.c. 528. At nineteen, Confucius 

form of the name of the prophet of China, as more familiar to English 
ears. As a general rule, I consider the movement in literature which is 
restoring proper names to their original spellings, — giving us Herakles 
for Hercules, and Oidipous for CEdipus, — as deserving of all support. But 
where the common form, in addition to being the more familiar, may be 
considered as English proper and not Latin used in English (as in such. 
names as Homer. Aristotle, Jesus Christ), I conceive it to be more conven- 
ient to retain the accustomed designation, even though it may be regretted 
that it has come into general use. Hence, I think, we may retain Confucius, 
who would scarcely be recognized by English readers under his full name, 
Khung-fu-tsze, or under his more usual abridged name, Khung-tsze, or 
under the name elsewhere given him, Chung-ne. No similar justification 
appears to me to exist for the Greek form Zoroaster, as compared with 
Zarathustra, which last form is as easy to pronounce as the other, and not 
very dissimilar from it fn sound. 

My authorities for the life of Confucius have been Dr. Legge's Chinese 
Classics, vol. i. Proleg. p. 54-113, and the Lun Yu and Chung Yung, trans- 
lated in the same volume. 



HIS PUBLIC SEKVICES. 159 

was married; and at twenty-one he came forward as a teacher. 
Disciples attached themselves to him, and during his long 
career as a philosopher, we find him constantly attended by 
some faithful friends, who receive all he says with unbounded 
deference, and propose questions for his decision as to an 
authority against whom there can be no appeal. The maxims ■ 
of Confucius did not refer solely to ethics or to religion ; they 
bore largely upon the art of government, and he was desirous 
if possible of putting them in actual practice in the administra- 
tion of public affairs. China, however, was in a state of great 
confusion in his days ; there were rebellions and wars [in pro- 
gress: and the character of the rulers from whom he might 
have obtained employment was such, that he could not, con- 
sistently with the high standard of honor on which he always 
acted, accept favors at their hands. One of them proposed to 
grant him a town with its revenues; but Confucius said: "A 
superior man will only receive reward for services which he has 
done. I have given advice to the duke king, but he has not 
obeyed it, and now he would endow me with this place! very 
far is he from understanding me" (C. C, vol. i., Prolegomena, 
p. 68). In the year 500 the means were at length put within his 
reach of carrying his views into practice. He was made '"chief 
magistrate of a town " in the state of Loo ; and this first appoint- 
ment was followed by that of *' assistant-superintendent of 
works." and subsequently by that of *' minister of crime." In 
this office he is said to have put an end to crime altogether ; 
but Dr. Legge rightly warns us against confiding in the *' indis- 
criminating eulogies " of his disciples. A more substantial ser- 
vice attributed to him is that of procuring the dismantlement of 
two fortified towns which were the refuge of dangerous and 
warlike chiefs. But his reforming government was brought to 
an end after a few years by the weakness of his sovereign, 
duke Ting, who was captivated by a present of eighty beautiful 
and accomplished girls, and one hundred and twenty horses, 
from a neighboring State. Engrossed by this present, the 
duke neglected public affairs, and the philosopher felt bound to 
resign. 

We need not follow him during the long wanderings through 
various parts of China which followed upon this disappoint. 



160 HOLY PERSONS. 

ment. After traveling from State to State for many years, he 
returned in his sixty-ninth year to Loo, but not to office. In 
the year 478 his sad and troubled life was closed by death. 

Our information respecting the character of Confucius is 
ample. From the book which Dr. Legge has entitled the " Con- 
fucian Analects," a collection of his sayings made (as he 
believes) by the disciples of his disciples, we obtain the nfost 
minute particulars both as to his personal habits and as to the 
nature of his teaching. The impression derived from these 
accounts is that of a gentle, virtuous, benevolent, and eminently 
honorable man; a man who, like Socrates, was indifferent to 
the reward received for his tuition, though not refusing payment 
altogether; who would never sacrifice a single principle for the 
sake of his individual advantage ; yet who was anxious, if possi- 
ble, to benefit the kingdom by the establishment of an admin- 
istration penetrated with those .ethical maxims which he con- 
ceived to be all-important. Yet, irreproachable as his moral 
character was, there is about him a deficiency of that bold origi- 
nality which has characterized the greatest prophets of other 
nations. Sakyamuni revolted against the restrictions of caste 
which dominated all minds in India. Jesus boldly claimed for 
moral conduct a rank far superior to that of- every ceremonial 
obligation, even those which were held the most sacred by his 
countrymen. Mahomet, morally far below the Chinese sage, 
evinced a far more independent genius by his attack on the 
prevalent idolatry of Mecca. Confucius did nothing of this kind. 
His was a mind which looked back longingly to antiquity, and 
imagined that it discovered in the ancient rulers and the ancient 
modes of action, the models of perfection which all later times 
should strive to follow. Nor was this all. He was so profoundly 
under the influence of Chinese ways of thinking, as to attach 
an almost ludicrous importance to a precise conformity to cer- 
tain rules of propriety, and to regard the exactitude with which 
ceremonies were performed as matter of the highest concern. 
In fact, he could not emancipate hfmself from the traditions of 
his country; and his principles would have resulted rather in 
making his followers perfect Chinamen than perfect men. 

A far more serious charge is indeed brought against him by 
Dr. Legge— that of insincerity (C. C, vol. i. — Prolegomena — 



HIS DAILY LIFE. 161 

p. 101). I hesitate to impugn the opinion of so competent a 
scholar ; yet the evidence he has produced does not seem to me 
sufficient to sustain the indictment. Granting that he gave an 
unwelcome visitor the excuse of sickness, which was untrue, 
still, as we are ignorant of the reasons which led him to decline 
seeing the person in question, We cannot estimate the force of 
the motives that induced him to put forward a plea in conform- 
ity with the polite customs of his country. It does not appear, 
moreover, that he practiced an intentional deceit. And though 
on one occasion l^.e may have violated an oath extorted by 
rebels who had him in their power, therein acting wrongly (as 
I think), it is always an open question how far promises made 
under such circumstances are binding on the conscience. What- 
ever failings, however, it may be necessary to admit, there can 
be no question of the preeminent purity alike of his life and 
doctrine. His is a character which, be its imperfections what 
they may, we cannot help loving; and there have been few, 
indeed, who would not have been benefited by the attempt to 
reach even that standard of virtue which he held up to the 
admiration of his disciples. 

A few quotations from the works in which his words and 
actions are preserved, will illustrate these remarks. In the 
tenth Book of the Analects (C. C, vol. i*. p. 91-100), his manners, 
his garments, his mode^f behavior under various circumstances 
are elaborately described. There are not many personages in 
history of whom we have so minute a knowledge. We learn 
that "in his village" he "looked simple and sincere, and as if 
he were not able to speak." His reverence for his superiors 
seems to have been profound. *' When the prince was present, 
his manner displayed respectful uneasiness; it was grave, but 
self-possessed." When going to an audience of the prince, "he 
ascended the dais, holding up his robe with both his hands, 
and his body bent; holding in his breath also, as if he dared 
not breathe. When he came out from the audience (the italics, 
here and elsewhere, are in Legge), as soon as he had descended 
one step, he began to relax his countenance, and had a satisfied 
look. When he had got to the bottom of the steps, he advanced 
rapidly to his place, with his arms like wings, and on occupying 
it, his manner still showed respectful uneasiness." He was 



162 HOLY PEBSONS. 

rather particular about his food, reiecting meat unless '*cut 
properly," and with "its proper sauce." 

Whatever he might be eating, however, "he would offer a 
little of it in sacrifice." "When any of his friends died, if the 
deceased had no relations who could be depended on for the 
necessary offices, he would say,«'I will bury him.'" "In bed, 
he did not lie like a corpse." And it is satisfactory to learh of 
one who was such a respecter of formalities, that " at home he 
did not put on any formal deportment." Notwithstanding this, 
he does not appear to have been on very intimate terms with 
his son, to whom he is reported to have said that unless he 
learned "the odes " he would not be fit to converse with; and 
that unless he learned "the rules of propriety" his character 
could not be established. The disciple, who was informed by 
the son himself that he had never heard from his father any 
other special doctrine, was probably right in concluding that 
"the superior man maintains a distant reserve towards his son" 
(Lun Yu, xvi. 13). 

But with his beloved disciples Confucius was on terms of 
affectionate intimacy which does not seem to have been marred 
by "the rules of propriety." For the death of one of them at 
least he mourned so bitterly as to draw down upon himself the 
expostulation of those who remained (Ibid., xi. 9). The picture 
of the Master, accompanied at all times by his faithful friends, 
who hang upon his lips, and eagerly gather up his every utter- 
ance, is on the whole a pleasant one. "Do you think, my dis- 
ciples," he asks, "that I have any concealments? I conceal 
nothing from you. There is nothing that I do which is not 
shown to you, my disciples ; — that is my way" (Ibid., vii. 23). 
And with all the homage he is constantly receiving, Confucius 
is never arrogant. He never speaks like a man who wishes to 
enforce his views in an authoritative style on others; never 
threatens punishment ei:her here or hereafter to those who dis- 
sent from him. 

"There were four things," his disciples tell us, "from which 
the Master was entirely free. He had no foregone conclusions, 
no arbitrary i^redeterminations, no obstinacy, and no egoism" 
(Lun Yu, ix. 4). And his conduct is entirely in harmony with 
this statement. It is as a learner, rather than a teacher, that 



HIS SENSE OF INSPIRATION, 163 

he regards himself. "The Master said, *When I walk along 
with two others, they may serve me as my teachers. I will select 
their good qualities, and follow them ; their bad qualities, and 
avoid them '" (Ibid., vii. 21). Or again: '*The sage and the 
man of perfect virtue, how clare I rank myself with them ? It 
may simply be said of me, that I strive to become such without 
satiety, and teach others without weariness" Ibid., vii. 33). "In 
letters I am perhaps equal to other men, but the character of 
the superior man, carrying out in his conduct what he profes- 
ses, is what I have not yet attained to'' (Ibid., vii. 32). 

Notwithstanding this modesty, there are traces — few indeed, 
but not obscure — of that conviction of a peculiar mission which 
all great prophets have entertained, 'and without which even 
Confucius would scarcely have been ranked among them. The 
most distinct of these is the following passage: — " The Master 
was put in fear in K'wang. He said, * After the death of king 
Wan, was not the cause of truth lodged here in me? li Heaven 
had wished to let this cause of truth perish, then I, a future 
mortal, should not have got such a relation to that cause. 
While Heaven does not let the cause of truth perish, wliat can 
the people of K'wang do to me?'" (Lun Tu, ix. 5. These 
remarkable words would be conclusive, if they stood alone. But 
they do not stand alone. In another place we find him thus 
lamenting the pain of being generally misunderstood, which is 
apt to be so keenly felt by exalted and sensitive natures. "The 
Master said, *Alas!' there is no one that knows me.' Tse-kung 
said, *What do you mean by thus saying— that no one knows 
you?' The Master replied, 'I do not murmur against Heaven. 
I do not grumble against men. My studies lie low, and my 
penetration rises high. But there is Heaven; — that knows 
me!'" (Ibid., xiv. 37). Men might reject his labors and despise 
his teaching, but he would complain neither against Heaven 
nor against them. If he was not known by men, he was known 
by Heaven, and that was enough. On another occasion, "the 
Master said, 'Heaven produced the virtue that is in me, Hwan 
T*uy — what can he do to me?'" * 

• Ibid., vii. 22. The occasion of this utterance is said to have been an 
attack by the emissaries of an oflftcer named Hwan T'uy, with a view of 
killine: the sage. 



164 HOLY PERSONS. 

These passages are the more remarkable, because Confucius 
was not in the ordinary sense a believer in God. That is, he 
never, throughout his instructions, says a single word implying 
acknowledgment of a personal Deity; a Creator of the world; 
a Being whom we are bound to worship as the author of our 
lives and the ruler of our destinies. He has even been sus- 
pected of omitting from his edition of the Shoo-king and the 
She-kiDg everything that could support the comparatively the- 
istic doctrine of his contemporary, Lao-tse (By V. von Strauss, 
T. T. K., p. xxxviii). That his high respect for antiquity would 
have permitted such a proceedure is, to say the least, very im- 
probable ; and Dr. Legge is no doubt right in acquitting him of 
any willful suppression of; or addition to, the ancient articles of 
Chinese faith (C. C, vol. i. Prolegomena, p. 99). For our pres- 
ent purpose it is enough to note that he avoided all discussion 
on the higher problems of religion ; and contented himself with 
speaking, and that but rarely, of a vague, and hardly personal 
Being which he called heaven. Thus, in a book- attributed (per- 
haps erroneously) to his grandson, he is reported as saying, 
"Sincerity is the very way of Heaven" (Chung Yung, xx. 18). 
Of king Woo and the duke of Chow, two ancient worthies, he 
says: "By the ceremonies of the sacrifices to Heaven and Earth 
they served God" (where he seems to distinguish between 
Heaven and God, whom T believe he never mentions but here); 
"and by the ceremonies of the ancestral temple they sacrificed 
to their ancestors. He who understands the ceremonies of the 
sacrifices to Heaven and Earth, and the meaning of the sev- 
eral sacrifices to ancestors,, would find the government of a 
kingdom as easy as to look into his palm" (Ibid., xix. 6). Else- 
where, he remarks that "he who is greatly virtuous will be 
sure to receive the appointment of heaven " (Ibid., xvii. 5). 
Again: "Heaven, in the production of things, is surely bounti- 
ful to them, according to their qualities " (Ibid., xvii. 3). Noth- 
ing very definite can be gathered from these passages, as to his 
opinions concerning the nature of the power of which he spoke 
thus obscurely. Yet it would be rash to find fault with him on 
that account. His language may have been, and in all proba- 
bility was, the correct expression of his feelings. His mind was 
not of the dogmatic type; and if he does not teach his disci- 



HIS RELIGIOUS DOCTRINES. 165 

pies any very intelligible iDriaciples concerning spiritual mat- 
ters, it is simply because he is honestly conscious of having 
none to teach. 

There are, indeed, indications which might be taken to imply 
the existence of an esoteric doctrine. *'To those," he says, 
''whose talents are above mediocrity, the highest subjects may 
be announced. To those who are below mediocrity, the highest 
subjects may not be announced " (Lun Yu., vi. 19). We are fur- 
ther told that Tsze-kung said, "the Master's personal displays 
of his principles, and ordinary descriptions of them may be 
heard. His discourses about man's natuie, and the way of 
Heaven, cannot be heard" (Ibid., v. 12). This last passage ap- 
pears to mean that they were not open to the indiscriminate 
multitude, nqr perhaps to all of the disciples. But we may reas- 
onably suppose that the intimate friends who recorded his say- 
ings were considered by him to be above mediocrity, and were 
the depositaries of all he had to tell them on religious matters. 

Yet this, little as it was, may not always have been rightly 
understood. Once, for example, he says to a disciple, "Sin, my 
doctrine is that of an all-pervading unity." This is interpreted 
by the disciple (in the Master's absence) to mean only that his 
doctrine is "to be true to the principles of our nature, and the 
benevolent exercise of them to others " (Ibid., iv. 15). I can 
hardly "believe that Confucius would have taught so simple a 
lesson under so obscure a figure; and it is possible that the 
reserve that he habitually practiced with regard to his religious 
faith may have prevented a fuller explanation. "The subjects 
on which the Master did not talk were — extraordinary things, 
feats of strength, disorder, and spiritual beings " (Lun Yu, vii. 
20). And although, in the Doctrine of the Mean (a work which 
is perhaps less authentic than the Analects) we find him dis- 
coursing freely on spiritual beings, which, he says, "abundantly 
display the powers that belong to them " (Chung Yung, 16). 
There are portions of the Analects which confirm the impression 
that he^did not readily venture into these extra-mundane regions. 
Heaven itself, he once pointed out to an over-curious" disciple, 
preserves an unbroken silence (Lun Yu, xvii. 19). Interrogated 
"about serving the spirits of the dead," he gave this striking 
answer: "While you are not able to serve men, how can you 



166 HOLY PERSONS. 

serve their spirits?' And when "Ke Loo added, *I venture to 
ask about death ? ' he was answered, * While you do not know 
life, how can you know about death ? ' " (Ibid., xi. 11). Another 
instance of a similar reticence is presented by his conduct dur- 
ing an illness. "The Master being very sick, Tsze-Loo asked 
leave to pray for him. "He said, * May such a thing be done? * 
Tsze-Loo replied, ' It may. In the prayers it is said. Prayer has 
been made to the spirits of the upper and lower worlds.' The 
Master said, *My praying has been for a long time'" (Ibid., 
vii. 34). I am unable to see "the satisfaction of Confucius with 
himself," which Dr. Legge discovers in this reply. To me it 
appears simply to indicate the devout attitude of his mind, 
which is evinced by many other passages in his conversation. 
In short, though wo may complain of the indefinite character 
of the faith he taught, and wish that he had expressed himself 
more fully, there can scarcely be a doubt that Confucius had a 
deeply religious mind ; and that he looked with awe and rever- 
ence upon that power which he called by the name of "Heaven," 
which controlled the progress of events, and would not suffer 
the cause of truth to perish altogether. 

It is true, however, that he confined himself chiefly, and in- 
deed almost entirely, to moral teaching. His main object un- 
doubtedly was to inculcate upon his friends, and if possible to 
introduce among the people at large, those great principles of 
ethics which he thought would restore the virtue and well-being 
of ancient times. Those principles are aptly summarized in the 
following verse : *' The duties of universal obligation are five, • 
and the virtues wherewith they are practiced are three. The 
duties are those between sovereign and minister, between father 
and son, between husband and wife, between elder brother and 
younger, and those belonging to the intercourse of friends. 
Thos'e five are the duties of universal obligation. Knowledge, 
magnanimity, and energy, these three are the virtues universally 
binding; and the means by which they carry the duties into 
practice is singleness" (Chung Yung, xx. 7). In the Analects, 
" Gravity, generosity of soul, sincerity, earnestness, and kind- 
ness," are said to constitute perfect virtue (Lun Yu, xvii. 6). 

It is as an earnest and devoted teacher, both by example and 
by precept, of these and other virtues, that Confucius must be 



HIS SAYINGS. 167 

judged. And in order to assist the formation of such a judg- 
ment, let us take his doctrine of Keciprocity, to which I shall 
return in another place. "Tsze-kung asked, saying, *Is there 
one word which may serve as a rule of practice for all one's 
life ?' The Master said, ' Is not Kecipeocity such a word? What 
you do not want done to yourself, do not do to others'" (Lun 
Yu, XV. 23). On a kindred topic he thus delivered his opinion : 
"Some one said, *AVhat do you say concerning the principle 
that injury should be recompensed with kindness?' The Mas- 
ter said, * With what, then, will you recompense kindness ? 
Kecompense injury with justice, and recompense kindness with 
kindness'" (Ibid., xiv. 26). 

If in the above sentence he may be thought to fall short of 
the highest elevation, there are some among his apophthegms, 
the point and excellence of which have, perhaps, never been 
surpassed. Take for instance these:— "The superior man is 
catholic and no partizan. The mean man is a partizan and not 
catholic." "Learning without thought is labor lost^: thought 
without learning is perilous" (Ibid., ii. 14, 15). Or these:— "I 
will not be afflicted at men's not knowing me; I will be afflicted 
that I do not know men" (Ibid., i. 16). "A scholar, whose mind 
is set on truth, and who is ashamed of bad clothes and bad 
food, is not fit to be discoursed with " (Ibid., iv. 9). " The supe- 
rior man is affable, but not adulatory; the mean is adulatory, 
but not affable" (Ibid., xiii. 23). "Where the solid qualities 
are in excess of accomplishments, we have rusticity; where the 
.accomplishments are in excess of the solid qualities, we have 
the manners of a clerk. When the accomplishments and solid 
qualities are equally blended, we then have the man of com- 
plete virtue" 'Lun Yu, vi. 16). Lastly, I will quote one which, 
with a slight change of terms, might have emanated from the 
pen of Thomas Carlyle: "There are three things of which the 
superior man stands in awe : — He stands in awe of the ordi- 
nances of heaven; he stands in awe of great men; he stands 
in awe of the words of sages. The mean man does not know 
the ordinances of heaven, and consequently does not stand in 
awe of them. He is disrespectful to great men. He makes sport 
of the words of sages " (Ibid., xvi. 8). 

These, and various other recorded sayings, go far to explain, 



168 LAO-TSE. 

if not to justifj^, the unbounded admiration of his faithful fol- 
lower, Tsze-kung: "Our Master cannot be attained to, just in 
the same way as the heavens cannot be gone up to by the steps 
of a stair. Were our Master in the position of the princj of a 
State, or the chief of a family, we should find verified the de- 
scription which has been given of a sage's rule: — he would plant 
the people, and forthwith they would be established ; he would 
lead them on, and forthwith they would follow him: he would 
make them happy, and forthwith multitudes would resort to his 
dominions; he would stimulate them, and forthwith they would 
be harmonious. While he lived, he would be glorious. When 
he died, he would be bitterly lamented. How is it possible for 
him to be attained to?" (Ibid., xix. 25.) 

Section II. — Lao-ts^;.* 

Concerning the life of Lao-tse, the founder of the smallest 
of the three sects of China (Confucians, Buddhists, and Taouists), 
we have only the most meagre information. Scarcely anything 
is known either of his personal character or of his doctrine, 
except through his book. His birth-year is unknown to us, and 
can only be approximately determined by means of the date 
assigned to his famous interview with his great contemporary, 
Confucius. This occurred in b. c. 517, when Lao-tse was very 
old. He may, therefore, have been born about the year b. c. 
eoo.f AH we can say of his career is, that he held an office in 
the State of Tseheu, that of "wTiter (or historian) of the ar- 
chives.'* When visited by Confucius, who was the master of a 
rival school, he is said to have addressed him in these terms: — 
*' Those whom you talk about are dead, and their bones are 
mouldered to dust; only their words remain. When the supe- 
rior man gets his time, he mounts aloft; but when the time is 
against him, he moves as if his feet were entangled. I have 
heard that a good merchant, though he has rich treasures 
deeply stored, appears as if he were poor; and that the supe- 
rior man, whose virtue is complete, is yet to outward seeming 
stupid. Put away your proud air and many desires ; your insin- 

* For authorities on Lao-tse, see vol. ii. chap. vi. section ii. 
t Julienr assigns b. o. 604 as the date, but confesses that he has no 
authority but historical tradition, L. Y. V. xix 



HIS CHARACTER. 169 

uating habit and wild will. These are of no advantage to you. 
This is all which I have to tell you.'* After this interview, 
Confucius thus expressed his opinion of the older philosopher 
to his disciples: — "I know how birds can fly, how fishes can 
swim, and how animals can run. But the runner- may be 
snared, the swimmer may be hooked, and the flyer may be shot 
by the arrow. But there is the dragon. I cannot tell how he 
mounts on the wind through the clouds and rises to heaven. 
To-day I have seen Lao-tse, and can only compare him to the 
dragon" (C. C, vol. i. Prolog, p. 65. — T. T. K., p. liii. — L. T.. 
p. iv). 

Troubles in the Si ate in which he held office induced him to 
retire, and to seek the frontier. Here the officer in command 
requested him to write a book, the result of which request was 
the Tao-tc-king. "No one knows," says the Chinese historian, 
"where he died. Lao-tse was a hidden sage" (T. T. K., p. Ivi). 

To this very scanty historical information we may add such 
indications as Lao-tse himself has given us of his personality. 
One of these is contained in the twentieth chapter of his work, 
in which he tells us that while other men are radiant with 
pleasure, he is calm, like a child that does not yet smile. He 
wavers to and fro, as one who knows not where to turn. Other 
men have abundance; he is as it were deprived of all. He is 
like a stupid fellow, so confused does he feel. Ordinary men 
are enlightened ; he is obscure and troubled in mind. Like the 
sea he is forgotten, and driven about like one who has no cer- 
tain resting-place. All other men are of use ; he alone is clown- 
ish like a peasant. He alone is unlike other men, but he honors 
the nursing mother (T. T. K., ch. xx. 

It is obvious that an estimate so depreciatory is not to be 
taken literally. To understand its full significance, it should 
be compared to the magnificent description in Plato's Theaetetus 
of the outward appearance presented by the philosopher, who, 
in presence of practical men, is the jest alike of *' Thracian 
handmaids," and of the "general herd;" who is "unacquainted 
with his next-door neighbor;" who is "ignorant of what is 
before him, and always at a loss ;" and who is so awkward and 
useless when called on to perform some menial office, such as 
"packing up a bag, or flavoring a sauce, or fawning speech." 



170 GAUTAMA BUDDHA. 

let this philosopher, like Lao-tse, '* honors his nursing Mother;" 
he moves in a sphere of thought where men of the world can- 
not follow him, and where they in their turn are lost (Theeete- 
tus, 174-176). Just such a character as that drawn by Plato, 
Lao-tse seems to have been. Living in retirement, and devoted 
to philosophy, he appeared to his contemporaries an eccentric 
and incompetent person. Yet he says that they called him 
great (Ch. Ixvii), which seems to imply that his reputation was 
already founded in his life-time* 

One other reference to himself must not be omitted, for it 
evinces the sense he had of the nature of his work in the world. 
"My words," so he writes in his paradoxical manner, **are 
very easy to understand, very easy to follow,— no one* in the 
world is able to understand them, no one is able to follow them. 
The words have an author, the works have one who enjoins 
them; but he is not understood, therefore I am not under- 
stood" (Ch. Ixx). On this Stanislas Julien observes, " There is 
not a word of Lao-tse's that has not a solid foundation. In 
fact, they have for their origin and basis Tao and Virtue " (L. V. 
V. p. 269, n. 2). These expressions, then, suffice to show that 
Lao-tse was not destitute of that sense of inspiration of which 
other great prophets have been so profoundly conscious. 

Section III.— Gautama Buddha.* 

Subdivision i. The Historical Buddha, 

* Were we to write the history of the Buddha according to 
the fashion of Buddhist historians, we should have to begin 
our story several ages before his birth. Por the theory of his 
disciples is, that during many millions of years, through an 
almost innumerable series of different lives, he had been pre- 
paring himself for the great office of the savior of humanity 
which he at length assumed. Only by the practice of incredible 

* The following works may be advantageously consulted with refer- 
ence to the Buddha Sakyamuni:— Notices on the Life of Shakya, by C oma 
Korosi; Asiatic Besearches, vol. xx, part ii. p. 285: the Bgya Tch'er Eol Pa. 
par Ph. Ed. Foucaux; Hardy's Manual of Buddhism; Bigandet's Life or 
Legend of Gautama, the Buddha of the Burmese; Alabaster's Wheel of 
the Law; and Koeppen's Beligion des Buddha, vol. i. p. 71, ff. Some infor- 
mation wiM also be found in my article on " Becent Publications on Budd- 
hism, in the Theological Beview for July, 1872. 



HIS ACTUAL LIFE. 171 

self-denial, and unbounded virtue, during all the long line of 
human births he was destined to undergo, could he become fitted 
for that consummate duty, the performance of which at last 
released him forever from the bonds of existence. For the 
total extinction of conscious life, not its continuation in a better 
sphere, is, or at any rate was, the goal of the pious Buddhist. 
And it was the crowning merit of the Buddha, that he not only 
sought this reward for himself, but qualified himself by ages 
of endurance to enlighten others as to the way in which it 
might be earned. 

But we will not encumber ourselves with the pre-historio 
Buddha, the tales of whose deeds are palpable fictions, but will 
endeavor to unravel the thread of genuine fact which probably 
runs through the accepted life of Sakyamuni in his final 
appearance upon earth. And here we are met with a prelimi- 
nary difficulty. That life is not guaranteed by any trustworthy 
authority. It cannot be traced back to any known disciple 
of Buddha. It cannot be shown to have been written within 
a century after his death, and it may have been written later. 
Ancient, however, it undoubtedly is. For the separation of 
northern from southern Buddhism occurred at an early period 
in the history of the Church, probably about two hundred 
years after the death of its founder; and this life is the com- 
mon property of all sections of Buddhists. It was consequently 
current before that separation. But its antiquity does not make 
it trustworthy. On the contrary, it is constructed in accord- 
ance with an evident design. Every incident has a definite 
dogmatic value, and stands in well-marked dogmatic relations 
to the rest. There is nothing natural or spontaneous about 
them. Everything has its proper place, and its distinct pur- 
pose. And it is useless to attempt to deal with such a life on 
the rationalistic plan of sifting the historical from the fabulous; 
the natural and possible from the miraculous and impossible 
elements. The close intermixture of the two renders any such 
process hopeless. We are, in fact, with regard to the life of 
Gautama Buddha, much in the position that we should be in 
with regard to the life of Jesus Christ, had we no records to 
consult but the apocryphal gospels • 

Nevertheless, while holding that his biography can never now 



172 GAUTAMA BUDDDA. 

be written, it is by no means my intention to imply that it is 
impossible to know anything about him. On the contrary, a 
picture not wholly imaginary may unquestionably be drawn of 
the character and doctrines of flie great teacher of the Asiatic 
continent. Let us venture on the attempt. 

An imposing array of scholars agrees in fixing the date of 
his death in B.C. 543, and as he is said to have lived eighty 
years, he would thus have been born in b.c. 623. AVithout enter- 
ing now into the grounds of their inference, I venture to 
believe that they have thrown him back . to a too distant date. 
I am more inclined to agree with KQppen, who would place his 
death from B.C. 480 to 460, or about two centuries before the 
accession of the great Buddhist king Asoka. Westergaard, it is 
true, would fix this event much later, namely about b.c. 370. Sup- 
posing the former writer to be correct in his conclusions, the 
active portion of the Buddha's life would fall to the earlier 
years of the fifth century B.C., and possibly to the conclusion of 
the sixth. His birth, about B.C. 560-540, occurred in a small 
kingdom of the north of India, entitled Kapilavastu. Of what 
rank his parents may have been, the accounts before us do not 
enable us to say. The tradition according to which they were 
the king and queen of the country, I regard with Wassiljew as 
in all probability an invention intended to shed additional 
glory upon him. The boy is said to have been named Siddhar- 
tha, though possibly this also was one of the many titles 
bestowed on him by subsequent piety. At an early age he felt 
—as so many young men of lofty character have always done— 
the hoUowness of worldly pleasures, and withdrew himself from 
men to lead a solitary and ascetic life. After he had satisfied 
the craving for self-torture, and subdued the lusts of the flesh, 
he came forth, full of zeal for the redemption of mankind, to 
proclaim a new and startling gospel. India was at that time, 
as always, dominated by the system of caste. The Buddha, 
boldly breaking throjigh the deepest prejudices of his country- 
men, surrounded himself with a society in which caste was 
nothing. Let but a mian or even a woman (for it is stated that 
at his sister's request he admitted women) become his disciple, 
agree to renounce the world, and lead the life of an ascetic, 
and he or she at once lost either the privileges of a high caste, 



THE FOUR TRUTHS. 173 

or the degradations of a low one. Rank depended henceforth 
exclusively upon capacity for the reception of spiritual truth; 
and the humblest individual might, by attending to and prac- 
ticing the teaclier's lessons, rise to the highest places in the 
hierarchy. " Since the doctrine which I teach," he is repre- 
sented as saying in one of the Canonical Books, "is completely 
pure, it makes no distinction between noble r.nd commoner, 
between rich and poor. It is, for example, like water, which 
washes both noblemen and common people, both rich and poor, 
both good and bad, and purifies all without distinction. It 
may, to take another illustration, be compared to fire, which 
consumes mountains, rocks, and all great and small objects 
between heaven and earth without distinction. Again, my doc- 
trine is like heaven, inasmuch as there is room within it, with- 
out exception, for whomsoever it may be ; for men and women, 
for boys and girls, for rich and poor" (W. u. T., p. 282). This 
was the practical side of Sak^^amuni's great reform. Its theo- 
retical side was this. Life was regarded by Indian devotees, 
not as a blessing, but as an unspeakable misery. Deliverance 
from existence altogether, not merely transposition to a happier 
mode of existence, was the object of their ardent longing. The 
Buddha did not seek to oppose this craving for annihilation, 
but to satisfy it. He addressed himself to the problem. How is 
pain produced, and how can it be extinguished? And his medi- 
tations led him to what are termed "the four truths "—the car- 
dinal dogma of Buddhism in all its forms. The four truths are 
stated as follows :— 

1. The existence of pain.' 

2. The production of pain. 

3. The annihilation of pain. 

4. The way to the annihilation of pain. 

The meaning of the truths is this:— Pain exists; that is, all 
living beings are subject to it ; its production is the result of 
the existence of such beings; its annihilation is possible; and 
lastly, the way to attain that annihilation is to enter on the 
paths opened to mankind by Gautama Buddha. In other 
words, the way to avoid that awful series of succeeding births 
to which the Indian believed himself subject, was to adopt the 
monastic life; to practice all virtues, more especially charity; 



174 GAUTAMA BUDDHA. 

to acquire a profound knowledge of spiritual truths; and, in 
fine, to follow the teaching of the Buddha. Keuounce the 
world, and you will— sooner or later, according to your degree 
of merit — be freed from the curse of existence; this seems to 
sum up, in brief, the gospel proclaimed with all the fervor of a 
great discovery by the new teacher. After about forty-five years 
of public life devoted to mankind, ho died at the age of eighty, 
at Kusinagara, deeply mourned by a few faithful disciples who 
had clustered around him, and no doubt regretted by many who 
had found repose and comfort in his doctrines, and had been 
strengthened by his example. The names of his principal dis- 
ciples become almost as familiar to a reader of Buddhist books 
as those of Peter, James, and John, to a Christian. Maudgaly- 
ayana and Sariputtra, the eminent evangelists, and Ananda, the 
beloved disciple, the close friend and servant of the Buddha, 
are amocg the most prominent of this little group. With them 
rested propagation of the faith, and the vast results, which in 
two centuries followed their exertions, prove that they were not 
remiss. The stories of the thousands who embraced the prof- 
fered salvation in the life-time of the Buddha are pious fancies. 
It was the apostles and Fathers of the Church who, while 
developing his doctrines and largely adding to their complexity 
and number, almost succeeded in rendering his religion the 
dominant creed of India. 

Such is, in my opinion, the sum total of our positive knowl- 
edge with regard to the life lived, and the truths taught, by 
this great figure in human history. The two points to which I 
have adverted — namely, the formation of a society apart from 
the world in which caste was nothing, and the hope held out 
of annihilation by the practice of virtues and asceticism — are 
too fundamental and too ancient to be derived from any but 
the founder. After all, ecclesiastical biographers, while they 
adorn their heroes with fictitious trappings, do not invent them 
altogether. A man from whose tuition great results have 
fiowed, cannot be a small man ; something of those results 
must needs be due to the impulse he has given. And if the 
Buddha must have, taught something, must have inaugurated 
some reform, what is he more likely to have taught, than the 
way to the annihilation of pain ? what reform more likely to 



HIS DOCTRINE AND OHARAOTEB. 175 

have inaugurated than the creation of a society held together 
by purely spiritual ties ? Both are absolutely essential to Budd- 
hism as we know it. Both are closely connected. For Buddhism 
would have had nothing to offer without the hope of extinction; 
and this hope, while leading to the practice of an austere and 
religious life, can itself be fulfilled only by that life; implying 
as it does a detachment from the bonds of carnality which hold 
us to this scene of suffering. Thus, these corner-stones of 
Buddhism — flowing as they must have done from a master- 
mind—may, with the highest probability, be assigned to its 
author. 

On one other point there is no reason to call in question the 
testimony of the legend. We need not doubt he really was the 
pure, gentle, benevolent, and blameless man which that legend 
depicts him to have been. Even his enemies have not attempted 
(I believe) to malign his character. He stands before us as one 
of the few great leaders of humanity who seem endowed with 
every virtue, and free from every fault. 

Subdivision 2. TJie Mifthical Buddha. 

Buddhistic authorities divide the life of their founder into 
twelve great periods, under which it will be convenient to treat 
ofit: — 

1. His descent from heaven. 

2. His incarnation. 

3. His birth. 

4. His display of various accomplishments. 

5. His marriage, and enjoyment of domestic life. 

6. His departure from home, and assumption of the monastic 

character. 

7. His penances. 

8. His triumph over the devil. 

9. His attainment of the Buddhaship. 

10. His turning the Wheel of the Law. 

11. His death. 

12. His cremation, and the division of his relics. 

1. Following, then, the guidance of the accepted legend, we 
must begin with his resolution to be born on earth for the sal- 
vation of the world. After thousands of preparatory births, he 



176 GAUTAMA BUDDHA. 

was residing in a certain heaven called Tushita, that being one 
of the numerous stages in the ascending series of the abodes of 
the blessed. At length, the end of his sojourn in this heaven 
arrived. He determined to quit the gods who were his compan- 
ions there, and to be born on earth. Careful consideration con- 
vinced him that the monarch Suddhodana, and his queen, Maya 
Devi, alone possessed these preeminent qualifications which 
entitled them to become the parents of a Buddha. Suddhodana 
lived in the town of Kapila, and belonged to the royal family of 
the Sakyas, the only family which the Bodhisattva (or destined 
Buddha) had discovered by his examination to be free from 
faults by which it would have been disqualified to receive him 
as one of its members. His wife, in addition to the most con- 
summate beauty, was distinguished for every conjugal and fem- 
inine virtue. Here, then, was a couple worthy of the honor 
about to be conferred upon their house. 

2. At this critical moment Maya had demanded, and obtained, 
the permission of the king to devote herself for a season to the 
practice of fasting and penance. While engaged in these aus- 
terities, she dreamt that a beautiful white elephant approached 
her, penetrated her side, and entered her womb. At this very 
time, Bodhisattva actually descended in the shape of a white 
elephant, and took up his abode within her body. On waking, 
she related the dream to her husband, who called upon the 
official Brahmins to interpret it. They declared it to be of good 
augury. The queen, they said, carried in her womb a being 
who would either be a "Wheel King," or Sovereign of the 
whole world; or if he took to a monastic career, would become 
a Buddha. All things went well during Maya's pregnancy. 
According to all accounts she underwent none of the discom- 
forts incidental to that state. One writer states that *' her soul 
enjoyed a perfect calm, the sweetest happiness; fatigue and 
weariness never affected her unimpaiied health." Another 
remarks that she enjoyed "the most perfect health, and was 
free from fainting fits." An additional gratification lay in the 
fact, that she was able to see the infant Bodhisattva sitting 
calmly in his place v/ithin her person. 

3. Ten months having passed (a Buddha always takes ten), 
the queen expressed a desire to walk in a beautiful garden 



HIS INCARNATION. 177 

called Lumbini; and, with the king's ready permission, pro- 
ceeded thither with her attendants. In this garden the hour 
of her delivery came on. Standing under a tree {the ficus relig- 
iosa), which courteously lowered its branches that she might 
hold on by them during labor, she gave birth to the child who 
was afterwards to be the first of humau-kind. Gods from heaven 
received him when born, and he himself atonce took several 
steps forward, and exclaimed: "This is my last birth — there 
shall be to me no other state of existence: I am the greatest 
of all beings." Ananda, his cousin, and afterwards his disciple, 
was born at the same moment. Maya, notwithstanding her 
excellent health, died seven days after her childs birth. This 
was not from any physical iofirmity, but because .it is the in- 
variable rule that the mother of a Buddha should die at that 
exact time. The reason of this, according to the Lalitavistara, 
is, that when the Buddha became a wandering monk her heart 
would break. Other respectable authorities assert, that the 
womb in which a Bodhisattva has lain is like a sanctuary where 
a relic is enshrined. '^ No human being can again occupy it, 
or use it" (P. A,, No. III. p. 27). Maya was born again in one 
of the celestial regions, and the infant was confided to her sis- 
ter, his aunt Prajapati, or Gautami, who was assisted in the 
care of her charge by thirty-two nurses. He was christened 
Sarvarthasiddha, usually shortened into Siddhartha. He is also 
known as Gautama Buddha, by which name he is distinguished 
from other Buddhas:'as Sakyamuni, the hermit of the Sakya 
race; as the Tathagata, he who walks in the footsteps of his 
predecessors ; as Bhagavat, Lord ; and by other honorofic titles. 

Soon after the birth of the Bodhisattva, he was visited and 
adored by a very eminent Kishi, or hermit, known as Asita (or 
Kapiladevila), who predicted his future greatness, but wept at 
the thought that he himself was too old to see the day when 
the law of salvation would be taught by 'the infant whom he 
had come to contemplate. 

4. When the appropriate age for the marriage of the young 
prince arrived, a wife, possessing all the perfections requisite 
for so excellent a husband, was sought. She was found in a 
maiden named Gopa (or Yasodhara), the daughter of Danda- 
pani, one of the Sakya race. An unexpected obstacle, however, 



178 GAUTAMA BUDDHA. 

arose. The father of the lovely Gopa complained that Siddhar- 
tha's education had been grossly neglected, and that he was 
wanting alike in literary accomplishments and in muscular pro- 
ficiency—things which were invariably demanded of ♦the hus- 
bands of Sakya princesses. It does, indeed, appear that Sudd- 
hodana had taken little pains to cultivate his son's abilities, 
and that he had mainly confiued himself lo the care of his per- 
sonal safety by surrounding him with attendants. Accordingly, 
he asked the prince whether he thought he could exhibit his 
skill in those branches of knowledge, the mastery of which ■ 
Dandapani had declared to be a necessary condition of his con- 
sent. Siddhartha assured his father that he could; and in a 
regular competitive examination, which was thereupon held, he 
completely defeated the other princes, not only in writing, 
arithmetic, and such matters, but in wrestling and archery. I^ 
the last art, especially, he gained a signal victory, by easily 
wielding a bow which none of the others could manage. 

5. Gopa was now won, and conducted by her husband to a 
magnificent palace, where, surrounded by a vast harem of beau- 
tiful women, he spent some years of his life in the enjoyment 
of excessive luxury. But worldly pleasure was not to retain him 
long ill its embrace. 

6. A crisis in his life w^as now approaching. Suddhodana had 
been warned that Siddhartha would assume the ascetic charac- 
ter if four objects were to meet his sight; an old man, a sick 
man, a corpse, and a recluse. Suddhodana, who would have 
much preferred his son being a universal monarch to his be- 
coming a Buddha, anxiously endeavored to guard him from 
coming across these things. But all was in vain. One day, 
when driving in the town, he perceived a wrinkled, decrepit, 
and miserable old man. Having inquired of the coachman what 
this strange creature was, and having learnt from him that he 
was only suffering the general fate of humanity, the Bodhisattva 
was much affected ; and, full of sad thoughts, ordered his char- 
iot to be turned homewards. Meeting on two other occasions, 
likewise when driving, with a man emaciated by sickness, aud 
with a corpse, he was led to still further reflections on the 
wretchedness of the conditions under which we live. Prepared 
by these meditations, he yielded completely to the tendencies 



HIS DEPARTURE FROM HOME. 179 

aroused within him when, on a fourth excursion, he came across 
a monk. The aspect of this man — his calmness, his dignity, 
his downcast eyes, his decent deportment— filled him with de- 
sire to abandon the world like him. 

The die was cast. Nothing could now retain the Bodhisattva, 
at this time a. young man of nine-and-twenty, from the course 
that approved itself to his conscience. In vain did his father 
cause his palace to be surrounded with guards. In vain did the 
ladies of the harem (acting under in>tructions) deploy their most 
ravishing arts to captivate and to amuse him. His resolution 
was finally fixed by a singular circumstance. The beautiful 
damsels who ministered to him had sought to engage his atten- 
tion by an exhibition of the most graceful dancing, accompa- 
panied by music, displaying their forms before his eyes as they 
executed their varied movements. But the Boddhisattva, deep 
in his meditations, was wholly unaffected. He fell asleep; and 
the women, baffled in their attempts and wearied out, soon fol- 
lowed his example. But in the course of the night the prince 
awoke. And then the sight of these girls, slumbering in all 
sorts of ungainly and ungraceful postures, utterly disgusted 
him. Summoning a courtier, named Chandaka, he ordered him 
at once to prepare his favorite horse Kantaka, that he might 
quit the city of his fathers, and lead the life of a humble re- 
cluse. But before thus abandoning his home, there was one 
painful parting to be gone through. One tie still held him to 
the world. His wife had just become a mother. Anxious to see 
his infant son, Kahula, before his departure, he gently opened 
the door of his wife's apartment. He found her sleeping with 
one hand over the head of the child. He would fain have taken 
a last look at his little boy, but fearing that if he withdrew the 
mother's hand she would awake and hinder his departure, he 
retired without approaching the bed. In the dead of night, 
mounted on Kantaka, and with the one attendant whom he had 
taken into the secret, he managed to leave Kapilavastu unper- 
ceived, never to return to it again till he had attained the full 
dignity of a Buddha. 

7. Having sent back Chandaka with the horse, the Boddhis- 
attva commenced, atone and unaided, a course of austerities 
fitted to prepare him for his greiat duty. He tried Brahminical 



180 GAUTAMA BUDDHA. 

teachers, but was soon dissatisfied with their doctrine. Five of 
the disciples of one of these teachers followed him for six years 
in the homeless and wandering life he now be.c^an. He adopted 
the most rigid asceticism, reducing his body to the last degree 
of feebleness and emaciation. But this too discovered itself to 
his mind as an error. He took to eating again, and regained 
his strength, whereupon the five disciples left him, viewing him 
as a man who had weakly abandoned his principles. 

8. After this period of gradual approach to the required per- 
fection the Boddhisattva went to Boddhimanda, the place ap- 
pointed for his reception of the Buddhaship. Here he had to 
withstand a furious attack by the demon Mara, who first en- 
deavored to annihilate him by his armies, and then to seduce 
him by the fascination of his three daughters. But Gautama 
withstood his male and female adversaries with equal calmness 
and success. Of the latter he. had possibly had enough in his 
princely palace. 

9. All these trials having been surmounted, he placed himself 
under the Bodhi (or Intelligence) tree, and there, engaging in 
the most intense meditations, gradually reached the intellectual 
and moral height towards which he had long been climbing. 
He was now in possession of Bodhi, or that complete and per- 
fect knowledge which constitutes a Buddha. He was thus fit 
to teach the law of salvation, but the Lalitavistra represents 
him as still doubting for a moment whether he should engage 
in a task which he feared would be thankless and unavailing. 
Men, he thought, would be incapable of receiving so sublime a 
doctrine, and he would incur fatigue and make exertions in 
vain. Silence and solitude recommended themselves at this 
moment to his spirit. But from a resolution so disastrous he 
was turned aside by the intercession of the god Brahma. 

10. He proceeded accordingly to "turn tho Wheel of the 
Law," or to preach to others, during the forty-five remaining 
years of his long life, the truths he had arrived at himself. 
The current lives speak, in their exaggerated manner, of his 
magnificent receptions by the kings whose countries he visited, 
and of the thousands of converts whom he made by his preach- 
ing, or who, in technical language, obtained Nirvana through 
him. His father and other members of his family were among 



HIS COMPL^E BUDDHASHIP. 181 

his followers. But among the first-fruits of his teaching were 
the five Brahmins who had abandoned him when he had 
relaxed in his ascetic habits. These, on first perceiving him, 
spoke of him with contempt as a glutton and a luxurious fellow 
spoilt by softness. But his personal presence filled them with 
admiration, and they at once acknowledged his perfect wisdom. 
During this time the two orders of monks and nuns, with their 
strict regulations enforcing continence and temperance, were 
founded. Gautama's aunt and nurse, Prajapati, was the first 
abbess; the Buddha, who had intended to exclude women from 
his order, having consented to admit them at her request. 
Rahula, his son, received the tonsure. 

11. After he had firmly established his law in the hearts of 
many devoted disciples, the Buddha " entered Nirvana " at tlie 
age of eighty, at Ku&inagara. That his deatli was deeply 
mourned by the friends who had hung upon his lips, and drawn 
their knowledge of religious truth from him, need not be re- 
lated. 

12. A pompous account is given of his funeral rites, of which 
it will be sufficient to mention here that his body was laid upon 
a pyre, and burnt after the manner of burning in use for 
Chakravartins, or Universal Monarchs. The princes of Kusina- 
gara wished to keep his relics to themselves; but seven kings, 
each of whom demanded a share, made threatening demonstra- 
tions against them, and aCter some quarrelling it was agreed to 
distribute the relics among the whole number. They were 
therefore divided into eight portions, the royal family of each 
country taking one. A dagoba, or monument, was erected over 
them in each of the capitals governed by these royal Buddhists. 

Of the numerous stories that are told with regard to the 
efiCects of the Buddha's preaching, of the amazing miracles he 
is said to have performed, and of the wonders reported to have 
happened at his death and his cremation, there will be an 
opportunity of speaking in another place. For the present, it 
is enough to relate the legend of his life in its main features, 
according to the version piously believed by the millions of hu- 
man beings who — in China, Tartary, Mongolia, Siam, Burmah, 
Thibet, and Ceylon — look to him as their law-giver and their 
savior. 



182 ZABATHUSTRA. 

Section IV. — Zaeathustra.* 

Slaves, condemned to make bricks without straw, would 
hardly have a more hopeless task than he who attempts to 
construct, from the materials now before him, a life of Zara- 
thustra. Eminent as we know this great prophet to have been, 
the details of his biography have been lost forever. His name 
and his doctrines, with a few scattered hints in the Gathas, are 
all that remain on record concerning the personality of a man 
who was the teacher of one great branch of the Aryan race, 
and whose religion, proclaimed many centuries, possibly even a 
thousand years, before Christ taught in Galilee, was a great and 
powerful faith in the days when Marathon was fought, and is 
not even now extinct. We will gather from these fragmentary 
sources what knowledge we can of the Iranian prophet, but we 
will refuse to fill up the void created by the absence of histor- 
ical documents with ingenious hypotheses or subtle specula- 
tions. 

Something approaching to a bit of biography is to be found 
in the opening verses of the fifth Gatha, which are to this 
effect :— 

*'It is reported that Zarathustra Spitama posseissed the best 
good; for Ahura Mazda granted him all that may be obtained 
by means of a sincere worship, forever, all that promotes the 
good life, and he gives the same to all those who keep the 
words and perform the actions enjoined by the good religion. 

*' Thus may Kava Yistaspa, Zarathustra's companion, and the 
most holy Frashaostra, who prepare the right paths for the 
faith which He who Liveth gave unto the priests of fire, faith- 
fully honor and adore Mazda according to his (Zarathustra's) 
mind, with his words and his works! 

** Pourutschista, the Hetchataspadin, the most holy one, the 
most distinguished of the daughters of Zarathustra, formed the 
doctrine, as a reflection of the good mind, the true and wise 
one."t 

* For an account of all that is to be made out concerning this prophet, see 
Hang's Parsees. p. 258-264. 

tYasna liil. 1-3. The translations contained in this section are taken 
either from Dr. Haug's F. G., or his Parsees. Here and there I have ventured 
to amend his English without altering the sense. 



HIS LIFE. 183 

Here we find an allusion to the interesting fact that the Zara- 
thustra had a daughter who contributed to the formation of 
the^ Parsee creed. The phrase, most distinguished of the daugh- 
ters, probably does not mean that the prophet was the father 
of several daughters, but merely that this one was celebrated 
as his coadjutor. Spiegel has in vain endeavored to discover the 
name of this lady's husband, but it seems to be doubtful whether 
anything is known of her matrimonial relations. The fact which 
it concerns us to notice is, that already in these primitive ages 
we have a female saint appearing on the scene. In addition to 
St. Pourutschista, mention is made of two disciples, who were 
evidently leaders in the apostolic band. The evangelic ardor of 
Frashaostra is touched upon in the preceding Gatha, where it 
is stated that *"'he wished to visit my Highlands (i e., Bactria) 
to propagate there the good religion," and Ahura Mazda is im- 
plored to bless his undertaking. Kava Vistaspa is celebrated 
in the same place as having obtained knowledge which the 
living "Wise One himself had discovered (Yasna 11. 16, 17. Par- 
sees, p. 161). The names of both are well known, being fre- 
quently mentioned in the Gathas. They appear to have been 
intimate associates of the prophet. Thus a supposed inquiry is 
addressed to Zarathustra, " Who is thy true friehd in the great 
work? who will publicly proclaim it?" and the answer is, 
"Kava Vistaspa is the man who will do this" (Yasna, xlvi. U). 
And Frashaostra is spoken of as having received from God, in 
company with the speaker (probably the prophet himself), "the 
distinguished creation of truth " (Ibid., xlix. 8). It is added, 
"for all time we will be thy messengers," or in other words. 
Evangelists. 

Not only do we obtain from the Gathas a glympse of Zara- 
thustra attended by zealous disciples, eager to proclaim the 
good tidings he brought : we learn something also of the oppo- 
sition he encountered from the adherents of the older faith. 
And since he actually names himself in the course of one of 
these compositions, which bears every appearance of genuine- 
ness and antiquity, we need not doubt the authenticity of the 
picture therein given of his relations to these opponents. They 
were the adherents of the old Devas, the gods whom Zarathus- 
tra dethroned;— polytheists, averse to this unheard-of introduc- 



184 ZABATHUSTEA. 

tion of monotheism into their midst. And they formed, at least 
during a part of the prophet's life-time possibly during the 
whole of it, by far the stronger party, for he refers to them in 
these terms: — 

** To what country shall 1 go ? where shall I take refuge? 
what country gives shelter to the master (Zarathustra) and his 
companion? None of the servants pay reverence to me, nor do 
the wicked rulers of the country. How shall I worship thee 
further, living Wise One ? 

"I know that I am helpless. Look at me being amongst few 
men, for I have few men (I have lost my followers or they have 
left me) ; I implore thee weeping, thou living God who grantest 
happiness as a friend gives a present to his friend. The good of 
the good mind is in thy own possession, thou True One ! . . . 
."The sway is given into the hands of the priests and prophets 
of idols, who, by their atrocious actions, endeavor to destroy the 
life of man. . . . 

*'To him who makes this very life increase by means of 
truth to the utmost for me, who am Zarathustra myself, to such 
an one the first (earthly) and the other (spiritual) life will be 
granted as a reward together with all good things to be had on 
the imperishable earth. Thou, living Wise One, art the very 
owner of all these things to the greatest extent; thou, who art 
my friend, O Wise One!" (Yasna. xlv. 1, 2, 11, 19.) 

And elsewhere we come across this exclamation: "What help 
did Zarathustra receive, when he proclaimed the truths? What 
did he obtain through the good mind?" (Ibid., xlix. 12.) 

And the piteous question is put to Ahura Mazda: "Why has 
the truthful one so few adherents, while all the mighty, who 
are unbelievers, follow the Liar in great numbers?" (Ibid., 
xlvii. 4.) 

These simple and natural verses point to a prophet who was 
— for a time at least — without honor in his own country. 
Whereas the later representations of his career depict him as 
the triumphant revealer of a new faith, before whose words of 
power the "Devas," or god of polytheism, flee in terror and 
dismay, we meet with him here in the character of a perse- 
cuted and lonely man, unsupported by the authorities of his 
nation, opposed by a powerful majority, and imploring, in the 



HIS DOCTRINES. 185 

distress and desolation of his mind, the all-powerful assistance 
of his God. Such is the reality ; how widely it differs from the 
fiction we have already seen. But as is always the case with 
great prophets, who are rejected in*their own days and honored 
after their death, the reality is forgotten ; the fiction is univers- 
ally accepted. 

Little need be said of the doctrines taught by Zarathustra. 
'His main principle is belief in the one great God, Ahura Mazda, 
whom he substitutes for the many gods of the ancient Aryans. 
He was in fact the author of a monotheistic reformation. The 
worshipers of these deities are often referred to in opprobrious 
terms, more especially as "liars," or "adherents of lies," while 
the devotees of Ahura are spoken of as the good, or as those 
who are in possession of the truth. It is only through the spirit 
of lying that the godless seek to do harm; through the true 
and wise God they cannot do it (Yasna, xlvii. 4). This God, the 
friend of the prophet, is honored in language of deep and sim- 
ple adoration ; not with the mere vapid epithets of praise which 
become common in the later sections of the Zend-Avesta. Zar- 
athustra feels himself entirely under his protection, and de- 
scribes himself ready to preach whatever truths this great Spirit 
may instruct him to declare. 

Beyond this great central dogma— which he announces with 
all the fervor of a discoverer — there is nothing of a very dis- 
tinctive kind in his theology. The doctrine of a separate evil 
spirit opposed to Ahura Mazda does not hold in the Gathas that 
place which it afterwards obtained in the sacred literature of 
the Parsee. Dr. Haug considers that Zarathustra held merely 
a philosophical dualism, the two principles of existence — bad 
and good — being united in the supreme nature of the ultimate 
Deity. From this great and all-wise Being every good thing 
emanates. He is the inspirer of his prophet; the teacher of 
his people; the counselor in the many perplexing questions 
that harass the minds of his worshipers. To him the pious souls 
resorts in trouble; by him both earthly possessions and spirit- 
ual life are granted to those who rightly seek him. Ahura 
Mazda is the true God ; and there is no other God but Ahura 
Mazda. 



186 MAHOMET. 

Section V. — Mahomet.* 

The last man who has obtained the rank of a prophet is 
Mohammed, or Mahomet, the son of Abdallah and Amina. 
Since his time none has succeeded in founding a great, and at 
the same time an independent religion. Many have wrought 
changes in preexisting materials ; but no one has built from the 
foundation upwards. The religion of Mahomet, though com- 
pounded of heathen. Judaic, and Christian elements, is not a 
mere reformation of any of the faiths in which these constitu- 
ents were found. It depends for its original sanction upon none 
of these, but derives its raison d'etre exclusively from the direct 
inspiration of its author. 

This prophet was born at Mecca in 571, and was the posthu- 
mous child of Abdallah, by his wife Amina. His mother died 
when he was six years old, and he was then taken charge of 
by his grandfather Abd-al-Mottalib, who, dying in two years, 
left the child to the care of his son Abu Talib. Mahomet was 
poor, and had to work for his living in a very humble occupa- 
tion. In process of time, however, he obtained a comfortable 
employment in the service of a rich widow, named Khadija, 
who was engaged in business, and whom- he served in the ca- 
pacity of a commercial traveler; or at first perhaps in a lower 
situation. His mercenary relation to her was soon superseded 
by a tenderer bond. He married her in 595, she being then 
thirty-eight or thirty-nine years of age, and fifteen years older 
than himself. She was evidently a woman of strong character, 
and retained an unbroken hold upon the affection of Mahomet 
until her death in 619. He subsequently married many wives, 
of whom Ayisha was the most intimate with him; but none of 
them appears to have exercised so much influence upon his 
character as Khadija. 

She it was who was the first to believe in the divine inspira- 
tion which her husband began to disclose in the year 612, at 
the mature age of forty; and she it was who encouraged and 

* The source from which this notice is mainly drawn is Sprenger, " Das 
Leben unci die Lehre des Mohammed," 3 vols. In addition to this I have con- 
sulted Muir's "Life of Mahomet;" Caussin de Percival, *' Les Arabes;" Gus- 
tav "Weil, " Mohammed der Prophet," and other works. The facts here stated 
will generally be found in Sprenger. The translations of Koranic passages 
ure taken from Rodwell's Koran. 



HIS RELAPSE AND REPENTANCE. 187 

comforted the rising prophet during his early years of trouble 
and persecution. His first revelation was received by him in 
612. It purported to be dictated by the angel Gabriel, who was 
Mahomet's authority for the whole of the Koran. 

"Kecite thou," thus spoke his heavenly instructor, "in the 
name of thy Lord who created; — created man from clots of 
blood:— Kecite thou! For thy Lord is the most beneficent, who 
hath taught the use of the pen; — hath taught man that which 
he knoweth not" (K., p. 1.— Sura xcvi). 

After this first reception of the word of God, Mahomet passed 
through that period of extreme depression and gloom which 
appears to be the universal lot of thoughtful characters, and 
which Mr. Carlyle has designated "the Everlasting No." For 
many months he recived no more revelations, and in his des- 
pondency he entertained a wish to throw himself down from 
high mountains, but was prevented by the appearance of 
the angel Gabriel. In time another communication came to 
strengthen him in his work; and revelations now began to pour 
down abundantly. His earliest disciples, besides his wife and 
his daughters, were his cousin Ali, and the slave Zayd, whom 
he had adopted as a son. By and by he obtained other impor- 
tant converts, among whom were Abu Bakr, Zobayr, and 0th- 
man, afterwards the Chalif. 

His earliest revelations were inoffensive to the Meccans; and 
it was only when he began to preach distinctly the unity of 
God, the resurrection, and responsibility to the Deity, that op- 
position was aroused. Persecution followed upon disapproval. 
Some of Mahomet's followers were compelled to take refuge in 
Abyssinia, and he himself told the Meccans instructive legends 
of nations whom God had destroyed for their wickedness in 
rejecting the prophets who had been sent to them. In 616, 
however, Mahomet was guilty of a relapse, for he published a 
revelation recognizing three Meccan idols, Lat, Ozza, and Manah, 
as intercessors with Allah. In consequence of this concession 
to their faith, the Korayschites — his own tribe — fell down on 
their faces in adoration of Allah, and the exiles in Abj^ssinia 
returned to their native land. But the prophet was soon 
ashamed of the weakness by which he had purchased public 
support. The verse was struck out of the Koran, and the pass- 



188 MAHOMET. 

ing recognition of idolatry attributed to the suggestion of the 
devil. Tradition assigns to this occasion the following verses: 

*' We have not sent any apostle or prophet before thee, 
among whose desires Satan injected not some wrong desire; 
but God shall bring to nought that which Satan had suggested. 
Thus shall God affirm his revelations, for God is Knowing- 
Wise! That he may make that which Satan hath injected, a 
trial to those in whose hearts is a disease, and whose hearts are 
hardened" (K. p. 593— Sura xxii. 51, 52). 

After his renewed profession of Monotheism, Mohomet and 
his followers were naturally subjected to renewed persecutions. 
Conversions, however, did not cease; and that of Omar, in 617, 
was of great importance to the nascent community. Yet mat- 
ters were at last pushed to extremities by the unbelievers. 
Mahomet's family, the Haschimites, were excluded from all 
commercial and social intercourse by the other Korayschites, 
and compelled to withdraw into their own quarter. This state 
of quarantine probably lasted from the autumn of 617 to that of 
619. At its conclusion Mahomet lost his wife Khadija, and his 
uncle Abu Talib, who had given him protection. 

He was now exposed to many insults and much annoyance. 
The insecurity in w^hich he lived at Mecca forced him to seek 
supporters elsewhere. Now the Caaba or holy stone at Mecca 
was the scene of an annual pilgrimage from the surrounding 
country. Mahomet made use of the advent of the pilgrims in 
621 to enlist in his cause six inhabitants of Medina, who are 
reported to have bound themselves to him by the following 
vow:— Not to consider any one equal to Allah; not to steal; 
not to be unchaste; not to kill their children; not willfully to 
culumniate; to obey the prophet's orders in equitable matters. 
Paradise was to be the guerdon of the strict observance of this 
vow, which from the place where it was taken was called the 
first Akaba. In the following year, 622, Mahomet met seventy- 
two men of Medina by night at the same ravine, and the oath 
now taken was the second Akaba. The believers swore to 
receive the prophet and to expend their property and their 
blood in his defense. Twelve of the seventy-two disciples were 
selected as elders, the prophet following therein the example cf 
Christ. 



THE HEGIRA-THE WAR. 189 

A place of refuge from the hostility of their countrymen was 
now open to the rising sect. All the Moslems who were able 
and willing gradually found their way to Medina. At length 
none of the intending emigrants remained at Mecca but the 
prophet himself and his two friends Abu Bakr, and All. The 
designs of the Korayschites against Mahomet's life failed, and 
he effected his escape to a cave at some little distance from 
Mecca, and in the opposite direction from Medina. Here he 
remained in concealment with Abu Bakr for three days, the 
daughter of the latter bringing food for both. After this time 
a guide brought three camels with which they proceeded in 
safety to Medina. The prophet reached Koba, a village just 
outside it, on the Hth of September 622. He remained here 
three days, and received the visits of his adherents in Medina 
every day. This was the celebrated Hegira, or flight, from 
whieh the Mussulman era is dated. 

In the course of a year, the majority of the inhabitants of 
Medina had adopted Islam, and a little later those who remained 
heathens were either compelled or persuaded to embrace-, or at 
least to submit to, the new creed and its apostle. The Jews 
alone retained their ancient religion. But while Mahomet was 
thus successful with Medina, he was still exposed to the bitter 
hostility of Mecca. War between the two cities was the result 
of the hospitality accorded to him by the formej:. Mahomet, 
who now united in his person the temporal and spiritual 
supremacy in his adopted home, did not shrink from the con- 
test, but carried it on with vigor and success. In the year 624, 
having gone in pursuit of a Meccan caravan, he met the army 
of the Korayschites at Badr, and defeated them; although he 
had not much more than three hundred men, while they com- 
manded from nine hundred to one thousand. In the following 
year indeed the Moslems were defeated in the battle of Ohod; 
but in 627 the seige of Medina, undertaken by Abu Sofyan at the 
head of ten thousand men, was raised after three weeks with- 
out serious loss on either side. 

Notwithstanding the enmity of its inhabitants, Mecca still 
retained in the eyes of Mahomet and his disciples its ancient 
prerogative of sanctity. The Kibla, or point towards which the 
Moslem was to turn in prayer, had for a time been Jerusalem • 



190 MAHOMET. 

but Mahomet had restored this privilege to his native town two 
years affer the Hegira. There too was the sacred stone, no less 
venerated by the pious worshiper of Allah than by the adhe- 
rents of Lat, Ozza and Manah; and thither it was that the 
religious pilgrimage had to be performed, for Mahomet had no 
intention of giving up this part of his ancestral faith. He was 
desirous in the spring of 628 of performing the pilgrimage to 
Mecca. The Koreish, however, came out to meet him with an 
army, determined to preclude his entrance to the city. The 
design was therefore abandoned; but an important treaty was 
concluded between Mahomet and Sohayl, who acted as envoy 
from Mecca. By this compact both parties agreed to abstain 
from all hostilities for ten years; Mahomet was to surrender 
fugitives from Mecca, but the Meccans were not to surrender 
fugitives from him; no robbery was to be practiced; it was 
open to any one to make an alliance with either party; 
Mahomet and his followers were to be per milted to ecter Mecca 
for three days in the following year for the festival. After mak- 
ing this agreement Mahomet, yielding to circumstances, per- 
formed the ceremonies of the festival at Hodaybiya near Mecca 
and then withdrew. 

The treaty caused great dissatisfaction among the Moslems, 
as well it might ; and the humiliation was heightened when the 
prophet, shortly after making it, was compelled to fulfil its 
provisions by giving up certain proselytes who had fled to him, 
from Mecca. Nevertheless his power continued to grow, and a 
tribe residing near Mecca took advantage of the treaty to con- 
clude an alliance with him. 

Mahomet now began to place himself on a level with crowned 
heads. In 628 he had a seal made with the inscription upon it : 
"Mahomet the messenger of God." Furnished with this official 
seal, he despatched six messengers with letters to the Emperor 
Heraclius; to the King of Abyssinia; to the Shah of Persia; to 
Mokawkas, lord of Alexandria ; to Harith the Ghassanite chief; 
and to Hawda in Yamama, a province of Arabia. The purport 
of all these missives was an exhortation to the various sover- 
<^eigns and chiefs to embrace the new religion, and a promise 
that God would reward them if they did, with a warning that 
they would bear the guilt of their subjects if they did not. 



EMBASSIES -SIEGE OF CHAYBAB. 191 

In the same year Mahomet besieged the town of Chaybar, 
whose inhabitants were Jews. Many of them were killed ; the 
rest were permitted to withdraw with their families. Kinana, 
their chief, was executed; and his wife Caf yya was added to the 
already numerous harem of the victor. 

The following year, 629, witnessed the performance by the 
Moslems of the pilgrimage to Mecca for the first time since the 
Hegira. The prophet summoned those who had accompanied 
him to Hodaybiya the year before to go with him now. The 
Koreish, according to the stipulations of the treaty, left the 
city; the Moslems' entered it, performed their devotions, and 
retired after three days. This year was also marked by a signal 
victory over a Ghassanite chief, who had executed a Mussulman 
envoy. 

In January, 630, taking advantage of the invitation of an 
allied tribe who had quarreled with Mecca, Mahomet quitted 
Medina with a large army for the purpose of taking that city. 
The exploit was facilitated by the desertion of the general of 
the Koreish, Abti Sofyan, who privately escaped to the Moslem 
camp and made his confession of faith. Next day the forces of 
the prophet entered Mecca with scarcely any resistance. In the 
following year he laid down the terms upon which the con- 
quered city was to be dealt with. Abu Bakr, accompanied by 300 
Moslems, was sent to Mecca as leader of the pilgrims. Ali was 
charged to make the proclamation to the people which is found 
in the 9th Sura of the Koran. 

"An Immunity from God and his Apostles to those with 
whom ye are in league, among the Poly theist Arabs! (those who 
join gods with God). Go ye, therefore, at large in the land four 
months : but know that God ye shall not weaken ; and that 
those who believe not, God will put to shame — And a procla- 
mation on the part of God and his Apostle to the people on the 
day of the greater pilgrimage, that God is free from any engage- 
ment with the votaries of other gods with God as is his Apos- 
tle! If therefore ye turn to God it will be better for you; but 
If ye turn back then know that ye shall not weaken God: and 
to those who believe not, announce thou a grievous punishment. 
But this concerneth not those Polytheists with whom ye are in 
league, and who shall have afterwards in no way have failed 



192 MAHOMET. 

you, nor aided any one against you. Observe, therefore, engage- 
ment with them through the whole time of their treaty : for 
God loveth those who fear him. And when the sacred months 
are passed, kill those who join other gods with God wherever 
ye shall find them ; and seize them, besiege them, and lay wait 
for them with every kind of ambush: but if they shall convert, 
and observe prayer, and pay the obligatory arms, then let them 
go their way, for God is gracious, merciful. If any one of those 
who join gods with God ask an asylum of thee, grant him an 
asylum, that he may hear the Word of God, and then let him 
reach his place of safety. This, for that they are people devoid 
of knowledge" (K., p. 611.— Sura ix. 1-6). 

Without quoting the proclamation at full length, we may ob- 
serve that in substance the terms granted were these. Those 
of the heathen with whom treaties had been made were in- 
formed that they should be free for four months. These are the 
" sacred months " alluded to in the text, and which had always 
been observed as a time of truce by the heathen Arabs, but 
which Mahomet deprived of their privilege. After this period 
was past the Moslems might kill the heathens or take them 
prisoners wherever they might find them. With other heathens, 
with whom there was no treaty in existence, Allah announced 
that he would have nothing further to do. Moreover, the heathen 
were excluded by this proclamation from approaching the holy 
places of Mecca in future. "O believers!"— such are the words 
of this last decree — '* only they who join gods with God are 
unclean! Let them not, therefore, after this year, come near 
the sacred Temple" (K., p. 615.— Sura ix. 28). 

The prophet was now at the climax of his power. All Arabia 
was his; both materially and spiritually subdued beneath his 
authority. The city of his birth, which had spurned him as 
one of her humble citizens, was now compelled to receive him 
as her lord. No triumph could be more complete; and it is a 
rare, if not a unique, example of a new religion being perse- 
cuted, imperilled, well-nigh crushed, rescued, strengthened, 
contending for supremacy, and supreme, within the life-time of 
its founder. But that life-time was now approaching its end. 
Mahomet in 632 celebrated the last festival he was destined to 
witness with the utmost pomp. He went with all his wives to 



HIS SINCERITY. 193 

Mecca, and thousands of believers assembled around him there. 
He preached to them from his camel. He sacrificed one hun- 
dred camels. On the 8th of June, 632, he expired in the hut of 
Ayischa of a remittant fever from which he had been suffering 
a short time. 

The character of the prophet Mahomet is an open question. 
Between the glowing admiration bestowed upon him by Car- 
lyle, and the sneering depreciation of Sprenger, there lie numer- 
ous intermediate possibilities of opinion. His sincerity, his 
veracity, his humanity, his originality, are all topics of discus- 
sion admitting of varied treatment. The old and simple method 
of treating Mahomet as an impostor scarcely merits notice. 
Among serious students of his life it may be pronounced ex- 
tinct. But between positive imposture and a degree of truth- 
fulness equal to that which all would concede to Confucius, or 
to Jesus, there are many degrees, and a man may be more or 
less sincere in many particulars which do not involve the funda- 
mental honesty of his conduct. It is in such particulars that 
the character of Mahomet is most open to suspicion. Few, I 
believe, would be able to read the earlier Meccan Suras, instinct 
as they are with a spirit of glowing devotion to a new idea, 
without entire conviction of the sincerity of their author. Nor 
can we reasonably doubt that he himself fully believed in the 
inspiration he professed to receive. The Koran is written pre- 
cisely in that loose, rambling, and irregular style, which would 
indicate that its author was above the laws of human composi- 
tion. If (as is said by some) there is beauty in the original 
Arabic, that beauty entirely evaporates in translation. The 
man whose work it is gave utterance to the thoughts of the 
moment as they were borne in upon him, in his opinion by an 
external power. But while he no doubt conceived himself as 
the instrument of the divine being, it is also exceedingly prob- 
able that in his later life he abused the weapon which he had 
thus got into his possession. That is to say, instead of waiting 
patiently for the revelation, and allowing Allah to take his own 
time, he in all likelihood put forth as revealed whatever hap- 
pened to suit the political purpose of the day, and that at what- 
ever moment was convenient to himself. In other words, he 
may have become less of a passive, and more of an active agent 



194 MAHOMET. 

in the composition of the Koran. Take, for example, the two fol- 

llowing Suras, belonging to his earliest period, as specimens of 
the inspired poetic style: — "Say: O ye unbelievers! I worship 
not that which ye worship, and ye do not worship that which I 
worship; I shall never worship that which ye worship, neither 
will ye worship that which I worship. To you be your religion ; 
to me my religion." "Say: He is God alone: God the eternal! 
He begetteth not, and is not begotten ; and there is none like 
unto him" (K., pp. 12, 13. —Suras cix., cxii). 

Contrast these fervent exclamations with such a passage as 
this, from one of the latest Suras: — 

"This day have I perfected your religion for you, and have 
filled up the measure of my favors upon you: and it is my 
pleasure that Islam be your religion ; but whoso without willful 
leanings to wrong shall be forced by hunger to transgress, to 
him, verily, will God be indulgent, merciful. They will ask thee 
what is made lawful for them. Say: Those things which are 
good are legalized to you, and the prey of beasts of chase which 
ye have trained like dogs, teaching them as God hath taught 
you. Eat, therefore, of what they shall catch for you, and 
make mention of the name of God over it, and fear God: 
Verily, swift is God to reckoa: This dsLj, things healthful are 
legalized to you, and the meats of those who have received the 
Scriptures are allowed to you, as your meats are to them. And 
you are permitted to marry virtuous women of those who have 
received the Scriptures before you, when you shall have pro- 
vided them their portions, living chastely with them without 
fornication, and without taking concubines" (K., p. 632.— Sura 
v. 5-7). 

The doctrine of direct inspiration, applied to matters like 
these, is almost a mockery. Yet Mahomet may have continued 
to think that God assisted him in the task of laying down laws 
for the believers, and we cannot accuse him of positive insin- 
cerity, even though his revelations were no longer the sponta- 
neous outpourings of an overflowing heart. 

A more difficult question is raised when we inquire how much 
of his teaching was borrowed from others, and whether there 
was any one who acted as his prompter in the novel doctrines 
he announced. Now there is evidence enough, some of it sup- 



HIS ORIGINALITY. I95 

plied by the Koran itself, that Mahomet was preceded by a sect 
called Hanyfites, who rejected the idolatry of their countrymen 
and held monotheistic doctrines. He spoke of himself as 
belonging to this sect, of which the patriarch Abraham was 
considered the representative and founder. Abraham is referred 
to in*the Koran with the epithet "Hanyf," and as one of those 
who do not join gods with God {E.g., Sura iii. 89; vi. 162; xvi. 
121). A dozen or so of the contemporaries of the prophet 
renounced idolatry before him, and were Hanyfites. Three of 
these became Christians, and a fourth, by name Zayd, professed 
to be neither Jew nor Christian, but to follow the religion of 
Abraham. Zayd was acknowledged as his forerunner by 
Mahomet himself. But besides these sources of conversion 
which lay open to the prophet, it is plain from the Koran itself 
that he had had much intercourse with a person (or persons) of 
the Jewish faith. Mahomet was not a scholar, and his contin- 
ual allusions to events in Jewish history plainly indicate a per- 
sonal source. Moreover, the narratives are given in that some- 
what perverted form which we should expect to find if they 
were derived from loose conversation rather than from study. 
His belief in the unity of God is not therefore a peculiarity 
which cannot be explained by reference to the circumstances in 
which his youth was passed. What was original with him was 
not the doctrine so much as the intensity with which it took 
possession of his mind, and the fervor which allowed him no 
rest until he had done his best to impart to others the pro- 
found conviction he entertained of this great truth. 

Mahomet in fact began his public career as a simple preacher. 
The resistance he met with at home, and the necessity of rely- 
ing for self-preservation on the swords of the men of Medina, 
converted him from a prophet to a potentate. The change was 
not one which he could avoid without sacrificing all chances of 
success; but it does appear to have exercised an unfortunate 
influence upon his character. As the governor of Medina he 
became tyrannical and even cruel. Among the worst features of 
his life is his conduct to the Jews after his attempts at concil- 
iation had been shown to be fruitless. For instance, a Jewish 
tribe, the Banil Kaynoka, with whom a treaty of friendship had 
been concluded, were expelled from Medina. Another tribe of 



196 MAHOMET. 

the same religion, the Banu Nadhyr, were blockaded in their 
quarter, and driven to capitulate, on condition of being allowed 
to leave Medina with their movable property. On the very day 
upon which the seige by Atati Sofyan in 627 came to an end, 
Mahomet blockaded the Banu Koraytza, also Jews, and com- 
pelled them to surrender at discretion. All the men, six hun- 
dred in number, were put to death, and the women were sold 
as slaves; a punishment which, even on the supposition that 
the tribe was hostile to the prophet, was unpardonably severe. 
In the ensuing year he marched against Chaybar, a town 
inhabited by Jews, besieged and took it. All the Jews taken in 
arms were put to death, whereupon the rest surrendered on 
condition of being permitted to withdraw with their families 
and their portable goods, exclusive of weapons and the prec- 
ious metals. Kinana, their leader, was executed, and it is 'a 
suspicious circumstance that Mahomet married his widow Caf- 
yya. Nor were these the worst of the prophet's misdeeds. He 
even stooped to sanction, if not to order, private assassination. 
Shortly after his victory at Badr, a woman and an old man, 
both of whom had rendered themselves offensive by their anti- 
Mussulman verses, were murdered in the night; and in both 
instances the murderers received the protection and countenance 
of the prophet and his followers. 

Unbridled authority had in fact corrupted him. All those 
who did not adhere to his cause committed in his eyes the 
crime of opposing the will of God. To a man envpowered 
by a special commission like his, the ordinary restraints of 
morality could not apply. Hence also, if he required a larger 
number of wives than was permitted to any other Moslem, a 
special revelation was produced to justify the excess. This was 
one of the weakest points in the prophet's character. Instead 
of setting an example to the community, he was driven to jus- 
tify his self-indulgence by means which were nothing short of 
a perversion of religion to his own ends. There would have 
been nothing reprehensible, considering his age and country, 
in his indulgence in polygamy, had he observed any kind of 
moderation as to its extent. Where he happened to take a 
fancy to a woman, and that woman did not object to him, the 
moral sense of his countrymen would not have revolted by his 



HIS MARRIAGES. 197 

taking her to wife. But it was revolted by the unrestricted 
freedom with which he added wife to wife, and concubine to 
concubine; a freedom so great as to degenerate into mere 
debauchery. He married women whom he had never seen, and 
who were sometimes already married. Mere beauty seems to 
have justified in his own eyes the addition of a new member 
to his harem, and there could be no pretence of real affection 
in the case of the women whom, without previous acquaintance 
he took to his matrimonial bed. Exclusive of Khadija, the 
total number of his wives was thirteen, of whom nine survived 
him. He had also three concubines. 

That his procedure scandalized the faithful is shown by the 
necessity he felt of defending it by the pliant instrument of 
revelation. Not only did he obtain from God a special law 
entitling him to exceed the usual number of wives ; other pecul- 
arities in his conduct were justified, either by an ex post facto 
decision applicable to all, or by an appeal to his extraordi- 
nary rights in his character of prophet. He had, for example 
conceived a desire to possess Za3^nab, the wife of his adopted 
son Zaid. Zaid obligingly divorced her, and received the great- 
est favor from the prophet for this friendly conduct. Zaynab 
made it a condition of her compliance that the union with 
Mahomet should be sanctioned by revelation, and this sanction 
was of course procured. Marriage with an adopted son's wife 
was somewhat shocking, and the following reference in the 
Koran indicates the manner in which the affair was regarded : 

*'And, remember, when thou saidst to him unto whom God 
had shown favor [z. e., to Zaid], and to whom thou also hadst 
shown favor, * Keep thy wife to thyself, and fear God ; ' and 
thou didst hide in thy mind what God would bring to light, 
and didst fear man; but more right had it been to fear God. 
And when Zaid had settled concerning her to divorce her, we 
married her to thee, that it might not be a crime in the faithful 
to marry the wives of their adopted sons, when they have set- 
tled the affair concerning them. And the behest of God is to 
be performed. No blame attacheth to the prophet where God 
hath given him a permission" (K., p. 566. — Sura xxxiii. 88.39). 

In another case he wished to induce a cousin, who was 
already married, though only to a heathen husband living at 



198 MAHOMET. 

Mecca, to become his wife ; but she, believer as she was, refused 
to be untrue to her conjugal duties. He permitted himself also 
to accept the love of women who simply surrendered themselves 
to him without the sanction of their relations, conduct which 
placed them in a highly disadvantageous position, since in case 
of dismissal by her husband, a woman thus informally married 
was not entitled to the dowry which other married women would 
receive, nor could she claim the protection of her family. 
"Among the heathen Arabs," observes Sprenger, *' a man who 
accepted such a favor would have been killed by the woman's 
family" (L. L. M„ vol. iii. p. 8i). But for the case of the 
cousin and for the case of such obliging female devotees the 
Koran had its suitable provisions: — 

"O Prophet! we allow thee thy wives whom thou hast d^ow- 
ered, and the slaves whom thy right hand possesseth out of the 
booty which God hath granted thee, and the daughters of thy 
uncle, and of thy paternal and maternal aunts who fled with 
thee to Medina, and any believing woman who hath given herself 
up to the prophet, if the prophet desired to wed her — a privilege 
for thee above the rest of the faithful. . . . Thou mayest de- 
cline for the present whom thou wilt of them, and thou mayest 
take to thy hed whom thou wilt, and whomsoever thou shalt long 
for of those thou shalt have before neglected ; and this shall not 
be a crime in thee. Thus will it be easier to give them the desire 
of their eyes, and not to put them to grief, and to satisfy them 
with what thou shalt accord to each of them. God knoweth 
what is in your hearts, and God is knowing, gracious." 

By a combination of qualities which is not uncommon, he 
added to an unrestricted license in his own favor an equally 
unrestricted jealousy concerning others. He could not bear the 
thought that any other man might possibly enjoy one of his 
wives even after his death. His followers were told that they 
"must not trouble the Apostle of God, nor marry his wives 
after him., for ever. This would be a grave offense with God." 
In the same paltry spirit he orders them, when they would ask 
a gift of any of his wives, to ask it from behind a veil. "Purer 
will this be for your hearts and for their hearts." Lest any 
stranger should trouble this uneasy husband by obtaining a 
sight of his wives' naked faces, he required them invariably to 



RESULTS OF HIS WORK. 199 

wear a veil in public, and never to expose themselves unveiled 
•except to near male relations, slaves, or women (K., p. 569.— 
Sura xxxiii. 51, 53, 55). 

Texts like these exhibit the degeneracy of the prophet's 
character in his later days. He wanted the stimulus of adver- 
sity to keep him pure. But he had done his work, and that 
work was on the whole a good one. Not indeed that there was 
anything very original or striking in the doctrines he announced. 
The Koran rings the changes on the unity of God, his power, 
his mercy, and his other well-known qualities ; on the resurrec- 
tion, with its delights for the faithful and its terrible judgments 
for the wicked; and on the vast importance of belief in the 
prophet and submission to his decrees. But this religion, though 
containing no elements that did not already exist in its two 
parents, Judaism and Christianity, was an improvement on the 
promiscuous idolatry which it superseded. It was less sensual 
and more abstract ; and its moral tone was higher. Greater still 
than the improvement in the creed of the Arabs was the im- 
provement in their material status. Unity of -faith brought with 
it unity of action. Erom a number of scattered, independent, 
and often hostile tribes, the Arabs became a powerful and con- 
quering nation. Other peoples were in course of time converted, 
and the religion of Mahomet was in the succeeding centuries 
carried in triumph over vast districts where the name of Christ 
had hitherto reigned supreme. Districts of heathen Africa have 
also accepted it. Were the prophet able to speak to us now, 
he would be entitled to say that the manifest blessing of Allah 
had rested upon the work he had begun in obscurity and per- 
sisted in through persecution ; and that the partiality of heaven 
was evident from the fact that Christianity had never succeeded- 
and had no prospect of succeeding, in regaining the vast terri- 
tory in Europe and in Africa from which Islam has expelled it. 

Section VI.— Jesus Chkist. 

When we endeavor to write the life of Jesus Christ, the 
greatest of the prophets, we are beset by peculiar, difficulties 
arising from the nature of the materials. While in the case of 
the Buddha we receive from authorities a life which, though 



200 JESUS CHRIST. 

largely composed of fiction, is at least uniform and consistent, 
in the case of Jesus we have biographies from several sources, 
all of them partly historical, partly legendary, and each in some 
respects at issue with all the rest. Hence the labor of sifting 
fact from fiction, as also that of reproducing and classifying the 
fictitious element itself, is far more difficult. In sifting fact 
from fiction we have to judge, among two, three, or four ver- 
sions of an occurrence, which is likely to be the most faithful 
statement of the truth, and within this statement itself how 
much we may accept, how much we must reject. And in re- 
producing and classifying the fictitious element we have not 
merely to relate a simple story, but to combine into our narra- 
tive varying, and sometimes conflicting, forms of the same 
fundamental myth. 

Hence further subdivision will be needed in the case of Jesus 
than was requisite in treating the lives of any of the other 
prophets. We may in fact discern in the gospels three distinct 
strata: a stratum of fact; a stratum of miracle and marvel; 
and a stratum (in John) of mere imagination within the realm 
of natural events. Correspondently to these divisions in the 
sources we will treat Jesus first as historical; secondly, as 
mythical; thirdly, as ideal. The" historical Jesus is the actual 
human figure who remains after abstraction has been made of 
the miraculous and legendary portions of his biography. The 
mythical Jesus, who is found in the three first gospels, is the 
human subject of legendary narratives ; the ideal Jesus, who is 
found in John, is a completely superhuman conception. 

Finally, it may be needful to remirk that the names affixed 
to the several gospels are merely traditional, and that in using 
them as a brief designation for these works, no theory as to 
their actual authorship is intended to be implied. The gospels 
(excepting perhaps the fourth) were the work of many authors, 
though ultimately compiled and edited by a single hand. Who 
this editor was is of little moment ; and who the original authors 
were we never can discover. So that the gospels are to all in- 
tents and purposes anonymous; but it will be convenient, after 
noting this fact, to continue to describe them by their current 
titles. 



THE HISTORICAL JESUS. 201 

Subdivision 1. — The Historical Jesus. 

In attempting to sketch the outline of the actual life of 
Jesus — and anything more than an outline must needs be 
highly conjectural — there are some general principles which it 
is advisable to follow. Recollecting that we have to deal with 
biographers who have mingled in promiscuous confusion the 
supernatural with the natural, impossibilities with probabilities, 
fables with facts, it becomes our duty to endeavor to separate 
these heterogeneous elements according to some consistent plan. 
That this can ever be perfectly accomplished is not to be ex- 
pected. The figure of Jesus must ever move in twilight, but we 
may succeed in reducing the degree of unavoidable obscurity. 

The first of the maxims to be observed will be furnished by 
a little consideration of the kind of thing likely to be the earli- 
est committed to writing, as also to be the most accurately 
handed down by tradition. This, it appears to me, would be 
sayings, rather than doings. Nothing in the life of Jesus is 
more characteristic and remarkable than his oral instruction ; 
this would impress itself deeply upon the minds of his hearers, 
and nothing, we may fairly conjecture, would be so soon com- 
mitted to writing either by them or by their followers. More- 
over, the records of discourses and parables would be, in the 
main, more accurate than those of events; slight differences in 
the words attributed to a speaker being (except in special cases) 
less material than divergences in the manner of portraying his 
actions. Historical confirmation of this hypothesis is not want- 
ing. There is the well-known statement of Papias that Matthew 
wrote down the "sayings" of Christ in Hebrew [Syro-Chaldaic]. 
And if we look for internal evidence, we find it in the far 
greater agreement among the synoptical gospels as to the doc- 
trines taught by Jesus than as to the incidents of his career. 
The incidents bear traces of embellishment undergone in pass- 
ing from mouth to mouth from which the doctrines are free. 
In some cases, moreover, there is concurrence as to the doctrines 
taught along with divergence as to the place where, and the 
circumstances under which, they were delivered. Added to 
which considerations there is the all-important fact that the 
events in the life of Christ are often of a supernatural order. 



202 JESUS CHRIST. 

while his discourses (excepting those in John) present nothing 
irreconcilable with his position in regard either to his epoch, 
his presumable education, or his nationality. 

Giving this preference to sayings in general, over doings in 
general, we may next establish an order of preference among 
doings themselves. Of these, some are natural and probable; 
others unnatural and improbable; o:hers again supernatural 
and impossible. The first kind will, of course, be accepted 
rather than the second ; while the third kind must be rejected 
altogether. And as a corollary from this general principle, it 
follows that where one narrative gives a simpler version than 
another of the same event or series of events, the simpler ver- 
sion is to be preferred. 

A third rule of the utmost importance is that whe^ any 
statement is opposed, either directly or by its implications, to 
subsequent tradition, that statement may be confidently re- 
ceived. For when the whole course of opinion in the Christian 
Church has run in a given direction, the preservation in one of 
our Gospels of an alleged or implied fact conflicting with the 
established view, is an unmistakable indication that the truth 
has been rescued from destruction in a case where succeeding 
generations would gladly have suppressed it. 

A fourth maxim, which is likely to be useful, is that wherever 
we can perceive traces of faults or blemishes in the character 
of Christ, we may presume them to have actually existed. For 
his biographers were deeply interested in making him appear 
perfect, and they would have been anxious wherever possible to 
conceal his weaknesses. Where, therefore, they suffer such 
human frailties to be perceived, their unconscious testimony is 
entitled to great weight. For although they themselves either 
do not see or do not acknowledge that what they record is really 
evidence of faultiness at all, yet it is plain that circumstances 
conveying such an impression to impartial minds are not likely 
to have been invented. The conduct ascribed to Jesus- might be 
capable of justification from his peculiar mission or his peculiar 
conception of his duties, but admiring disciples would not wan- 
tonly burden him with a load not rightly his. Yet this princi- 
ple, though unquestionable in the main, must be tempered with 
the qualification that there are cases where his followers may 



CANONS OF EVIDENCE. 203 

have miBunderstood and misrepresented him. It must be added 
that a similar presumption of truth attaches to the record of 
faults or blunders in the conduct of the disciples, whose char- 
acters their disciples were likewise anxious to exalt. 

In the fifth place, it is a reasonable supposition that the less 
complete the outline of the life of Jesus contained in any Gos- 
pel, the more authentic is that Gospel. Gaps in the story told 
by one \7riter which, in another writer, have been filled up, are 
strong indications of actual gaps in the life as known to the 
first Christians. While it is true that the compiler of one Gos- 
pel might, from ignorance or from design, omit some historical 
fact which the compiler of another v/ould insert, yet it is un- 
likely that whole years would be passed over in silence, or re- 
markable events left out, where any genuine knowledge of those 
years or those events was possessed by the biographer. But 
nothing is more natural than that a space, subsequently felt to 
be a serious and almost intolerable void, should in process of 
time be removed by the exercise of the imagination craving to 
fill the empty canvas with living figures. Nor even where there 
is no positive blank, is it surprising that many actions conform- 
able to the notion formed of Christ should be fitted into his 
career, and made to take their places alongside of others of a 
more unquestionable nature. We shall therefore prefer the 
scantiest account of the life of Jesus to the fullest. 

A careful comparison of the first three Gospels — which alone 
can pretend to an historical character — will establish the fact 
that the second, ascribed to Mark, is the most trustworthy, or 
to speak accurately, the least untrustworthy, according to these 
canons. For in the first place, it absolutely omits many of the 
most noteworthy events comprehended by the other Gospels in 
the life of Jesus. Secondly, it sometimes gives a natural version 
of a circumstance which appears in the others as supernatural ; 
or a comparatively^ simple version of a circumstance which the 
others have converted into something mystical. It surpasses 
the others in statements, and still more in omissions, implying 
divergence from well-established subsequent tradition; and in 
general the far greater scantiness of detail, the failure to fill up 
blanks as the other Evangelists have done, the almost frag- 
mentary character of this Gospel, are points telling largely in 



204 JESUS CHEIST. 

its favor. That, however, we have the earliest, or anything 
approaching the earliest form of the life of Jesus in Mark 
it would be a great error to assume. As much as Mark 
differs from Matthew and Luke, so much at least did the 
primitive story differ from his, and in the same direction. 
Nay, it must have differed far more, for by the time the 
second Gospel was committed to its present form, a cloud 
of marvels had already surrounded the person of Jesus, and 
obscured his genuine figure. Through the mist of this cloud 
we must endeavor to discern such of his lineaments as have not 
been totally and forever hidden from our scrutinizing gaze. 

Yery little is known of the parents of Jesus, and even that 
little has rather to be inferred from casual references than 
gathered from direct statements. Joseph, his father, was a car- 
penter or builder, but his status is nowhere clearly defihed. 
He and his family appear, however, to have been well known 
in their native country, and he was probably, therefore, not a 
mere workman, but a tradesman in comfortable circumstances.* 
At any rate, he was the father of a considerable family, con- 
sisting of five sons and of more than one daughter (Mt. xiii. 55, 
and xii. 46 ; Mk. vi. 3, and iii. 31 ; Lu. viii. 19). The names of 
the brothers of Jesus,— James, Joses, Simon, and Judas, — have 
been preserved, while those of his sisters are unknown. 

Whether there is not some confusion here, may indeed be 
doubted, for we hear also of another Mary, the mother of 
James and Joses (Mk. xv. 40; Mt. xxvii. 56), and it is possible 
(as M. Eenan supposes), that the names of her children have 
been substituted for those of the genuine brothers of Christ 
which had been forgotten. Paul certainly mentions James, 
the Lord's brother (Gal. i. 19), and it would be natural to inter- 
pret this literally. But the question does not admit of any posi- 
tive decision. Of the actual existence, however, of both brothers 
and sisters there can be no reasonable doubt; for they are spoken 
of as personages who were familiar to their neighbors, while the 
very fact that they play no part in the subsequent history is a 



* The author of "The Messiah" (London, 1872) contends that he was 
not only a master builder, but the principal builder of Nazareth. His 
remarks on this subject (pp. 91 ff.) deserve consideration, though they 
are not conclusive. 



HIS PARENTS AND FAMILY. 205 

guarantee that they have not been invented for a purpose. Little 
is known of his mother Mary, her genuine form having been 
transfigured at a very early period by the Christian legend. The 
first and third Gospels have made her the subject of a story which 
would force us — if we accept it at all — to consider Jesus as her 
Olegitimate child, born of some other father than Joseph. But 
there is no adequate ground to ascribe to her such laxity of 
conduct. For aught we can discern to the contrary, she seems 
to have borne a fair reputation among her countrymen, who 
undoubtedly, according to the incidental and therefore unbiased 
testimony of all four Evangelists, believed Jesus to have been 
the son of Joseph, begotton, like the rest of his family, in wed- 
lock (Mt. xiii. 55; Mk. vi. 3; Lu. iv. 22; Jo. vi. 42,) 

Beyond the fact that Joseph and Mary occupied a respecta- 
ble position in Nazareth, we can say little of them. The lineage 
of both was plainly unknown to the compilers of the Gospels, 
since Joseph has been endowed with two different fathers, 
while the parentage of Mary has not even been alluded to. All 
that we can venture to assert is, that neither of them were 
reputed to be of the family of David, for Jesus took pains to 
prove that the Messiah need not, as was commonly believed, be 
descended from that monarch (Mt. xxii. 41-46; Mk. xii. 35-37; 
Lu. XX. 41-44). There would have been no occasion for his 
ingenious suggestion that David, by calling the Messiah Lord, 
disproved the theory that this Lord must be his son, unless he 
had felt that his belonging to a family which could not claim 
such a pedigree might be used as an argument against his 
Messianic character. We may confidently conclude then that 
his lineage was obscure. 

That his birth took place at Nazareth is abundantly obvious 
from the very contrivances resorted to in Matthew and Luke to 
take his parents to Bethlehem for that event. According to 
cither of these narratives one fact is plain : that the habitual 
dwelling-place oj. the family was Nazareth; while Matthew has 
preserved the valuable information that he was called a Naza- 
renc (Mt. ii. 23), a statement which is confirmed by the manner 
in which he is alluded to in John, as "Jesus of Nazareth, the 
son of Joseph " (Jo. i. 45). Jesus therefore passed in his life- 
time for a native of Nazareth, and as it does not appear that 



206 JESUS CHRIST. 

he ever contradicted the current assumption, as moreover the 
only two authorities which are at issue with this assumption 
are also at issue with one another on ail but the bare fact of 
the birth at Bethlehem, we need not hesitate to draw the infer- 
ence that he was born at Nazareth. 

In his 3'outh the son of Joseph was apprenticed to his fath- 
er's trade, and he may have practiced it for many years before 
he took to his more special vocation of a public teacher. He 
was at any rate known to his neighbors as "the carpenter," 
and his abandonment of that calling for one in which he seemed 
to pretend to a position of authority over others, caused both 
astonishment and indignation among his old acquaintances. 

His public career was closely preceded by that of an illustri- 
ous prophet, by whom he must have been profoundly influenced 
— John the Baptist. Very little of the doctrine of John has 
been preserved to us, his fame having been eclipsed by that of 
his successor. But that little is sufficient to evince the great 
similarity 'between his teaching and that of Jesus. He was in 
the habit of baptizing those who resorted to him in the Jordan, 
and of inculcating repentance, because the kingdom of heaven 
was at hand (Mt. iii. 2). Now precisely the same tone was 
adopted by Jesus after the captivity of John. Kepenlance was 
inculcated on account of the approaching advent of the king- 
dom of heaven, and a mode of instruction similar to that of 
John was practiced. Both these prophets, affected no doubt by 
the troubled condition of Judea, enjoined the simple amend- 
ment of the lives of individuals as the means towards a hap- 
pier state of things. Both attracted crowds around them by 
the force and novelty of their preaching. Jesus, according to a 
probable interpretation of the narrative, was so much impressed 
by the lessons of his predecessor, and by the baptism received 
from him, that he for a time retired to a solitary place, living 
an ascetic life, and pondering the stirring questions that must 
have burnt within him. During this retirement Jesus could 
mature his designs for the future, and on emerging from it he 
was able at once to take up the thread of John the Baptist's 
discourses. Possibly John himself had perceived the high 
capacity of the young Nazarene, and had appointed him to the 
prophetic office. But the story of his baptism by John has been 



THE DISCIPLES. 207 

unfortunately so surrounded with mythical circumstances, that 
the true relations between these teachers can no longer be dis- 
cerned. 

Meditating in the wilderness on the words of John the Ba]> 
tist, and on the state of his country, the notion may have 
entered the mind of Jesus that he himself was the destined 
Messiah. While the power he felt within him may have given 
birth to the idea, the idea once born would react upon his 
nature and increase the power within him. But whether the 
conception of his own Messiahship arose now or at some other 
period, it is plain that he was- animated by it during his public 
career, and that it gave to all his teaching its peculiar tone of 
independent authority. How far he was completely convinced 
of his own claim to the Messianic title will be considered in. 
another place; it is sufficient to say here that he was plainly 
anxious that this claim should be acknowledged, and the rights 
it conferred upon him recognized. 

On emerging from his retreat, he began the public promul- 
gation of his doctrines; at first, however, with caution and re- 
serve, and keeping within the lines marked out by John the 
Baptist. Attracted by the young enthusiast, a select band of fol- 
lowers gathered around him, and while he inspired them with 
implicit trust, they no doubt inspired him in their turn with 
higher confidence. The reticence which modesty or hesitation 
had produced gradually melted away, and he began boldly to 
put forth pretensions which, while they repelled and scandalized 
many, drew others into a closer companionship and a more im- 
plicit submission. Simon and Andrew, James and John, were 
the first, or among the first, of his disciples. Eight others 
joined him at about the same period of his life, their names 
being Philip, Bartholomew, Matthew, Thomas, James the son 
of Alpheus, Thaddeus, Simon the Canaanite, and Judas (Mk. 
iii. 14-19; Mt. x. 1-4). While these formed the inner circle, we 
must suppose that he had many other admirers and followers, 
who were either less intimate with him, or less constant in 
their attendance. And there may even have been others of 
equal intimacy with the twelve apostles, whose names have not 
been handed down to us. For all the apostles did not enjoy an 
equally close and unreserved friendship with their master. 



208 JESUS CHRIST. 

Three of their number— Simon, James, and John — stood to- 
wards him in an altogether special and peculiar relationship. 
They are far more prominent than any of the other nine. They 
were selected to accompany Jesus when others were left behind. 
They formed an inmost circle within the circle of his more con- 
stant companions. Them alone he is said to have distinguished 
by names of his own invention. On Simon he conferred the 
name of Peter. To James and John, the sons of Zebedee, he 
applied the familiar nickname of Boanerges, or sons of thun- 
der, which seems to indicate that they were distinguished by 
the fervor of their zeal (Mk. iii. 16, 17). 

The admirers of Jesus were scarcely, if at all, less numerous 
among the female than among the male sex. Indeed, he seems 
to have exercised a very marked fascination over women. When 
he went to Jerusalem, he was followed by many women frohi 
Galilee, who had been accustomed to contribute to his wants, 
and to give him that personal attention which kindly women 
know so well how to confer. Mary Magdalene whom he had 
healed of some mental ailment, Mary the mother of James, 
Salome the mother of the sons of thunder, were among the 
most devoted of these, while two sisters, Mary and Martha, 
Joanna the wife of Chuza, Herod's steward, and Susanna, are 
also mentioned (Mk. xv. 40, 41; Lu. viii. 2, 3, x. 38, 39). If we 
may believe one of the Evangelists, who stands alone in this 
respect, the homage of women was particularly agreeable to 
Jesus, who received "it with words of the highest praise (Lu. vii. 
36-50 X. 38-42). That some among these many female followers 
were drawn to him by the sentiment of love is, at least, highly 
probable. Whether Jesus entertained any such feeling towards 
one of them it is impossible to guess, for the human side of his 
nature has been carefully suppressed in the extant legend. 

Supported then by adherents of both sexes, Jesus entered 
upon his career of a public teacher. His own house was at 
Capernaum (Mt. iv. 13), but he wandered from place to place in 
the exercise of his vocation, staying, no doubt, with friends 
and disciples. It is not necessary to follow him in these pere- 
grinations, of which only the vaguest accounts have been pre- 
served by the Evangelists. But two remarkable circumstances 
deserve to be noted; namely, that his own family rejected his 



REJECTED AT HOME. 209 

pretensions, and that he met with no success in hi& own dis- 
trict. Of the former, in addition to the negative evidence fur- 
nished by the fact that neither Mary nor the brothers of Jesus 
are mentioned among the believers, we have the positive evi- 
dence of John that his brothers did not believe (Jo. vii. 5), con- 
firmed by the statement in the other Gospels that his family 
attempted to see him during the earlier part of his career, and 
that Jesus positively refused to have anything to do with them 
(Mk. iii. 31-35; Mt. xii. 46-50; Lu. viii. 19-21). This desire on 
the part of the family to confer with him, and the manner in 
which Jesus, disavowing all special ties, adopts all who "do the 
will of God " as mother, brother and sister, admits of but one 
construction. Mary and her other children were anxious to 
draw him away from the rash and foolish, mode of life — as they 
deemed it — on which he had entered, and Jesus, understanding 
their design, avoided an unpleasant interview by simply declin- 
ing to be troubled with them. And if, as is highly probable, it 
was they who thought him mad (Mk. iii. 21), we have further proof 
that neither his mother nor any of the other members of his 
family can be counted among his converts, at any rate during 
his life-time. The second circumstance, his complete failure in 
his own neighborhood, is attested by a saying of his own, re- 
corded by all four Evangelists. A prophet, he is reported to 
have said, is without honor in his own country, among his own 
kin, and in his own house (Mk. vi. 4). To which it was added 
that he was unable to perform any work of power there, beyond 
curing a few sick people. And these cures evidently did not 
impress the skeptical Nazarenes, for we are told that " he mar- 
veled because of their unbelief " (Mk. vi. 5, 6). 

Leaving, therefore, these hard-hearted neighbors, he pro- 
ceeded to address the people of Galilee and Judea in discourses 
which excited great attention; sometimes inculcating moral 
truths in plain but eloquent language, sometimes preferring to 
illustrate them by little stories, the application of which he 
either made himself or left to his hearers to discover. Had 
these stood alone, they would have sufficed to give him a high 
reputation. But he did not depend on words alone for his suc- 
cess among the people. The peculiar condition of Palestine at 
this epoch gave him a favorable opportunity of supplementing 



210 JESUS CHRIST. 

words by deeds. The trials and sufferings they had undergone, 
both from the Herodian family and the Eomans; the constant 
outrage to their deepest feelings afforded by the presence of an 
alien soldiery; the insults, humiliations, and cruelties they 
endured at the hands of their conquerors, had wrought the peo- 
ple up to a state of almost unbearable tension and extreme 
excitement. That under the pressure of such a state of things 
nervous disorders should be widely prevalent-, is not to be. won- 
dered at. And these affections, as is well known, are peculiarly 
infectious, easily spreading through a whole village and raging 
in a whole country (See, for example, Haecker's Epidemics, 
passim). Hysteria, moreover, takes many forms. Now it may 
show itself as species of madness; now as the imagination of 
some positive disease. Here it may be violent and outrageous; 
there morbid and gloomy. Another peculiarity is its tendency 
to increase the more, the greater the attention paid to it by 
friends and onlookers. To be an object of interest to those 
around is enough to inflame the symptoms of the hysterical 
patient. And when this interest took shape in a belief that he 
was inhabited by some bad spirit — which was equally the the- 
ory of the Jews in the time of Christ, and of Christians up to 
the middle ages— it was natural that the evil should be magni- 
fied to the highest degree. There are, however, some individ- 
uals who exercise a peculiar power over sufferers of this descrip- 
tion. Their looks, their touch, their words, are all soothing. 
By addressing the victims of hysteria in tones of authority, by 
taking their hands, or otherwise endeavoring to calm their 
excited nerves, these physicians of nature may put a stop to the 
pain, or expel the illusion. In modern days they would be 
called mesmerists, and though the pecularities of temperament 
to which they owe their mesmeric faculty are not yet under- 
stood, their influence is well known to those who have exam- 
ined into the subject. 

Among the Jews, the subjects of these current maladies were 
said to be possessed by devils. And it was a common profession 
to cast out these so-called devils,* for we are told that it was 

* Lu.xi. 19. I use this verse, not as evidence that Jesus actually spoke 
the words ascribed to him, but that the practice of casting out devils was 
common to Jesus and the disciples of the Pharisees. 



CASTING OUT DEVILS. 211 

practiced by the adherents of the Pharisees. "What means 
they employed we do not know. Probably they were not of the 
mesmeric order, but consisted in charms and exorcisms which, 
being believed by the patients to have the power of curing 
them, actually had it. At any rate, the fact remains that Jesus 
and the Pharisees are reputed to have possessed a similar influ- 
ence over the demons, and if we accept the statement as true in 
the one case we cannot consistently reject it in the other. It 
remains to be considered, however, whether the evidence is 
such as to induce us to believe it in either. Now it is quite 
true that a great many absurd and impossible miracles are 
ascribed to Jesus in the Gospels. But considering the impor- 
tant place occupied in his life — as it has come down to us — by 
his cures of sick people ; considering the possibility above sug- 
gested that many of these might have taken place by knowii 
methods; considering too the extremely easy field which Pales- 
tine presented for their application, it would appear more 
likely that there might be a basis of truth in 'the numerous 
accounts of sudden recoveries effected by him, than that they 
were all mere inventions. We may then assume, without here 
entering into details, that a number of unfortunate people, 
thought to be possessed by devils, either met him on his way, 
or were brought to him by relations, and were restored to 
health by the authoritative command addressed to the evil 
spirit to depart; mingled with the synipathetic tone and man- 
ner towards the tormented subject of possession. Individual 
examples of these apparently miraculous cures may be open to 
doubt from the very inaccurate character of the records, and 
for this reason it will be better for the present to admit the 
general fact without binding ourselves to this or that special 
instance oi" its occurrence. 

Possessing this power himself, and ignorant of its source, 
Jesus attempted to communicate it to his disciples. It is ex- 
pressly stated that he gave them i^ower to heal sicknesses and 
cast out devils (M!k. iii. 15), though it is doubtful whether they 
met with mucli success in this vocation. On one occasion, at 
least, a signal failure is reported, and as the fact stated redounds 
neither to the glory of Christ, who had appointed his disciples 
to the work, nor of the disciples who had received the appoint- 



212 JESUS CHBIST. 

ment, we may believe it to be true (Mk. ix. 14-29). A parent 
had brought his little son to the apostles to be delivered from 
some kind of fits from which he suffered. The apostles could 
do nothing with him. When Jesus arrived he ordered the spirit 
to depart, and the boy, after a violent attack, was left tranquil. 
We are not told indeed how long his calmness lasted, nor 
whether the fits were permanently arrested. Eor the moment, 
however, a remedy was effected, and the disciples naturally in- 
quired why they had not been equally successful. The extreme 
vagueness of the reply of Jesus renders it probable that his 
remedial influence was due to some personal characteristic 
which he could not impart to others. This conclusion is con- 
firmed by the noteworthy fact that an unknown person exercised 
the art of casting out devils in the name of Jesus, though not 
one of his company (Mk. ix. 38-40). Here the name would he 
valuable only because of its celebrity, the expulsion of the devils 
being due, as in the case of Jesus himself, to the personal en- 
dowments of the exorcist. At any rate, we have the broad facts 
that the Pharisees, Jesus himself, and the unknown employer 
of his name, were all proficient in the art of delivering patients 
from the supposed possession of evil spirits. Possibly too the 
apostles did the same, and it was certainly the intention of Jesus 
that they should. 

Such exhibitions of power, though they might tend to 
strengthen the influence of Jesus among the multitude, were 
not the principal means on which he depended for acceptance. 
His sermons and his parables were both more remarkable and 
more original. In addition to the fact that he taught, in the 
main, pure and beautiful moral doctrines, he well knew how to 
exemplify his meaning by telling illustrations. The parables 
by which he enforced his views have become familiar to us all, 
and deserve to remain among our most precious literary posses- 
sions. What more especially distinguished his mode of teaching 
from that of other masters was the air of spiritual supremacy 
he assumed, and his total independence of all predecessors but 
the writers of Scripture. Not ind'eed that he ventured upon 
any departure from the accepted tradition with regard to the 
history of his nation, or the authority of the Old Testament. 
On the contrary, he was entirely free from any approach to a 



THE OFFENSE HE GAVE. 213 

critical or inquiring attitude. But in so far he did not teach 
like the scribes, that he boldly put forth his own interpretations 
of Scripture and his own views of ethics, without the smallest 
regard for the established opinions of the schools, and without 
seeking support from any authority but his own. In this course 
he was evidently strengthened by an inward conviction that he 
was the destined Messiah of the Jewish people. Deputed, as 
he conceived, directly from God, he could afford to slight the 
restrictions which others might place upon their conduct. He 
was not bound by the rules which applied to ordinary men. 

This assumption, with its corresponding behavior, could not 
fail to give great offense to those by whom his title was not 
conceded. And we accordingly find that he comes into constant 
collision with the recognized legal and religious guides of the 
Jews. Among the first of the shocks he inflicted on their sense 
of propriety was his claim to be authorized to forgive sins (Mk. 
ii, 7). To the Jewish mind this pretension was highly blas- 
phemous ; no one, they thought, could forgive sins but God, and 
they did not understand the credentials in virtue of which this 
young man acted as his ambassador. Further scandal was 
caused by his contempt for the common customs observed on 
the Sabbath day (Mk. ii. 24, and iii. 6), which appeared to him 
inconsistent with the original purpose of that institution. The 
language he was accustomed to use to his disciples, and to his 
hearers generally, was not of a nature to soothe tlieir growing 
animosity. Designating himself by the Messianic term of ** the 
Son of man," he announced the approach, even during the gen- 
eration then extant, of a kingdom of heaven wherein he himself 
was to return clothed with glory, and his followers were to be 
gathered round him to enjoy his triumph. Along with these 
promises to his friends, there flowed forth indignant denuncia- 
tion of the Pharisees and Scribes, who were held up to the 
scorn of the populace. 

Having thus provoked them to the utmost, he imprudently 
accepted the honor of a sort of triumphal entry into Jerusalem, 
the pomp of which, however, has probably been somewhat ex- 
aggerated (Mk. xi. 1-11). Nor was this all. He proceeded to an 
act of violence which it was impossible for the authorities to 
overlook. The current Eoman money not being accepted at the 



2U JESUS CHRIST. 

temple, the outer court of this building was used by money- 
changers, who performed the useful and necessary service of 
receiving from those who came to make their offerings the 
ordinary coinage, and giving Jewish money instead of it. Doves 
being also required by the few to be offered on certain occa- 
sions, there were person-s outside the temple who sold these 
birds. Indignant at what seemed to him a violation of the 
sanctity of the spot, Jesus upset the tables of these traffickers, 
and described them all as thieves. It is added in one account 
that he interfered to prevent vessels being carried through the 
temple (Mk. xi. 15-17). That, after this, the spiritual rulers 
should ask him to produce his authority for such conduct, was 
not unnatural. Nor is it surprising that, after his unsatisfactory 
reply to their inquiry, they should take steps to prevent the 
repetition of similar scenes. 

The efforts of the chief priests to bring about his destruction 
are described in two of our Gospels as the direct result of his 
proceedings about the temple, the impression he had made on 
the multitude being a further inducement (Mk. xi. 18; Lu. xix. 
48). Aware of the indignation he had excited, Jesus soon after 
these events retired into some private place, known only to his 
more intimate friends. So at least I understand the story of 
his betrayal. Either Judas never betraj^ed him at all, or he was 
lurking in concealment somewhere in the neighborhood of Je- 
rusalem. That the conduct attributed to Judas should be a 
pure invention appears to me so improbable, more especially 
when the history of the election of a new apostle is taken into 
account, that I am forced to choose the latter alternative. The 
representation of the Gospels, that Jesus went on teaching in 
public to the very end of his career, and yet that Judas received 
a bribe for his betrayal, is self-contradictory. The facts appear 
to be that Jesus ate the passover at Jerusalem with his disci- 
-ples, and that immediately after it, conscious of his growing 
danger, he retired to some hidden spot where he had lived be- 
fore, and where friends alone were admitted to his company. 
Judas informed the authorities of the temple where this spot 
was. They thereupon apprehended Jesus, and brought him be- 
fore the Sanhedrim for trial. 

So confused and imperfect is the account of this trial given 



HIS BETBAYAL AND APPBEHENSION. 215 

by the Evangelists, that we are unable to make out what was 
the nature of the charge preferred against him, or of the evi- 
dence by which it was supported. It is clear, however, that the 
gravamen of the accusation was that he had put forth blasphe- 
mous pretensions to be the Messiah, "the Son of the Blessed 
One." And this was supported by a curious bit of evidence. 
Two witnesses deposed, either that they had heard him say he 
ivould destroy this temple made with hands and build another 
made without hands within three days, or that he was able to 
destroy the temple, and to rebuild it in three days (Mt. xxvi. 
61; Mk. xiv. 58). The witnesses are called false witnesses, both 
in Mark and in Matthew. But if we turn to John (Jo. ii. 19), we 
find the probable source of the charge brought against him by 
these two witnesses, and we find reason also to think that they 
were not perjurers. There we are told that after he had driven 
the money-changers and traders from the temple, the Jews 
asked him for a sign that might evince his right to do such 
things. In reply to their demand, Jesus is reported to have 
said, "Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it 
up." Connecting this statement in the one Gospel with the evi- 
dence given on the trial according to others, we may form a 
tolerably clear notion of the actual fact. Pressed by his oppo- 
nents for some justification of his extraordinary conduct, Jesus 
had taken refuge in an assertion of his supernatural power. If 
they destroyed the temple he would be able, with the favor be- 
stowed on him by God, to rebuild it in three days. These 
words might possibly be misconstrued by some of his hearers 
into a threat that he himself would destroy the temple, an out- 
rage which would in their view have been less difficult to im- 
agine after his violence to those engaged in business in its 
outer court. But whether so understood or not, there could be 
no question about the pretension to something like divinity in 
the promise to rebuild it in three days. There is not a shadow 
of probability in favor of the interpretation put upon the words 
in the fourth Gospel, that he spoke of the temple of his body. 
And even had that been his secret meaning, the witnesses who 
appeared against him could have no conception that he was 
thinking of anything but the material temple, to which the 
whole dialogue had immediate reference. They were therefore 



216 JESUS CHBIST. 

simply repeating, to the best of their ability, words which had 
actually fallen from the prisoner. The evidence for the prose- 
cution being concluded, the high priest appealed to Jesus to 
know whether he had nothing to reply. Jesus being silent, the 
high priest proceeded to ask him directly whether he was 
"Christ, the Son of the Blessed One." Jesus answered that he 
was, and that they would hereafter see him "sitting on the 
right hand of power, and coming in the clouds of heaven." 
Such an answer was an explicit confession of the very worst 
that had been alleged against him. After it, there was no 
option but to convict him, and we read accordingly that they 
all condemned him as worthy of death. But capital punish- 
ment could not be inflicted except by Eoman authority. He was 
accordingly taken before the procurator, Pontius Pilate, charged 
with the civil crime of claiming to be king of the Jews. Pon- 
tius appears to have regarded him as a harmless fanatic, and 
to have been anxious to discharge him, in accordance with a 
custom by which one prisoner was released at the festival which 
fell at this time. But the Jews clamored for the release of a 
man named Barabbas, who was in prison on account of his par- 
ticipation in an insurrectionary movement in which blood had 
been shed. Barabbas accordingly was set at liberty, and Jesus, 
though with some reluctance on the part of the procurator, was 
sentenced to crucifixion. The sentence was carried into effect 
immediately. Unable, probably from exhaustion through his 
recent sufferings, to carry his own cross, Jesus was relieved of 
the burden by one Simon, on whom the soldiery imposed the 
duty of bearing it. He was crucified along with two thieves, 
and an inscription in which he was entitled " King of the Jews " 
was placed upon his cross, apparently in mockery of the Jewish 
nation much more than of him. His ordinary disciples had 
fled in terror from his melancholy end, but he was followed to 
the cross by some affectionate women, who had previously at- 
tended him in Galilee. And after he was dead, his body was 
honorably interred by a well-to-do adherent, named Joseph of 
Arimathaea. 

Subdivision 2.—TJie Mythical Jesus. 

The life of the mythical Jesus is found in the synoptical 
Gospels, but more especially in the first and third. It is by no 



THE GENEALOGIES. 217 

means pure fiction, but an indistinguishable compound of fact 
and fiction, in which the fictitious elements bear so large a pro- 
portion that it is impossible to disentangle from them the ele- 
ments of genuine history. Part of this life moreover is wholly 
mythical, and of this wholly mythical portion there are certain 
sections that are constructed on a common plan, the biograph- 
ers in these sections having only fitted the typical incidents in 
the lives of great men to the special case of Jesus, the son of 
Joseph, Not that this need have been done consciously; the 
probability is that the circumstances and mode of thought 
which led to the invention of such typical incidents in the lives 
of others, led to it equally in that of Jesus. However this may 
be, we shall find in the mythical life of Jesus the following 
three classes of myths: 1. Mj^ths of the typical order, common 
to a certain kind of great men in certain ages, and therefore 
purely unbistorical ; 2. Myths peculiar to Jesus, in which the 
miraculous element so predominates, that it is impossible to 
recognize any, or more than the very slightest, admixture of 
history; 3. Myths, peculiar to Jesus, in which there is a more 
or less considerable admixture of history; And 4. Statements 
not of necessity mythical, which may or may not be historical, 
but of which the evidence is inadequate. 

At the outset of our task we are met by the assumed gene^ 
alogy of Jesus, which has caused some trouble to theologians, 
and which is mainly important as an indication of the degree 
of credit due to writers who could insert such a document. For 
these awkward pedigrees afford an absolute proof of the facility 
with which the Christians of the earliest age supplemented "the 
actual life of Jesus by free invention. We are happily in pos- 
session of two conflicting lists of ancestors, and happily also 
they are both of them lists of the ancestoi's of Joseph, who, 
according to the very writers by whom they are supplied, stood 
in no relation whatever to Christ, the final term of the geneal- 
ogies. Double discredit thus falls upon the witnesses. In the 
first place, both lists cannot be true, though both may be 
false; one of them therefore must be, and each may be, a delib- 
erate fiction. In the second place, both the Gospels bear 
unconscious testimony to the fact that Joseph was originally 
supposed to be, by the natural course of things, the father of 



218 JESUS CHEIST. 

Jesus, for otherwise why should the early Christians have been 
at the trouble to furnish the worthy carpenter with a distin- 
guished ancestry? They thus discredit their own story that 
Jesus was the son of Mary alone. Either then Jesus was the 
son of Joseph, or neither of the two genealogies is his geneal- 
ogy at all. The solution of these inconsistencies is to be found 
in the fact that two iadependent traditions have been blended 
together by the Evangelists. The one, no doubt the more 
ancient of the two, considered Jesus as the child of Joseph and 
Mary, and the ingenuity of his biographers has not succeeded 
in obliterating the traces of this tradition (Mt. xiii. 55). Another 
and much later one, treated him as the offspring of Mary with- 
out the aid of a human father. Those who believed in the first 
and more authentic story had busied themselves with the discov- 
ery of a royal descent for their hero, in order that he might 
fiilflU what they considered the conditions of the Messiahship. 
They had naturally traced his ancestry upwards from his 
father, not from his mother, according to the usual procedure. 
But the Gospels of Matthew and Luke were written entirely on 
the hypothesis that he had no father but God ; all necessity for 
showing that Joseph was of the house of David was therefore 
gone. ' Nevertheless the writers or the editors of tjiese Gospels 
did not like to neglect entirely what seemed to them to 
strengthen their case, and, forgetful of the ridiculous jumble 
they were making, inserted an elaborate pedigree of Joseph 
along with the statement that Jesus was not his son. 

Let us now examine the genealogies in detail, placing them 
in columns parallel to one another. Luke begins a stage 
earlier than Matthew, making God his starting-point instead of 
Abraham. Erom Abraham to David the two authorities proceed 
together. Matthew, who has cut his genealogical tree into 
three sections of fourteen generations each, makes this his first 
division. After this the divergence begins:— 

Luke. 
1. Kathan. 



Matthew. 

1. Solomon. 

2. Rehoboam. 

3. Abia. 

4. Asa. 

5. Jehoshaphat. 



2. Mattatha. 

3. Menan. 

4. Melea. 

5. Eliakim. 



THE GENEALOGIES. 



219 



Matthew (continued) — 


Luke (coniinued)- 


6. Joram. 


6. Jonan. 


[Ahaziah. 




Joash. 




Amaziah. *] 




7. Ozias (or Uzziah). 


7. Joseph. 


8. Jotliam. 


8. Juda. 


9. Ahaz. 


9. Simeon. 


10. Ilezckiab. 


10. Levi. 


11. Manasseh. 


11. Matthat. 


13. Anion. 


12. Jorim. 


13. Josiah. 


13. Eliezer. 


\Jehoiakim.'\ 




14. Jeconiah (or Jehoiacliin). 


14. Jose. 



Here the captivity closes the 
second period. After the captivity 
we have — 

1. Jeconiah. 

2. Salathiel (or Shealtiel). 

3. Zerubbabel. 

4. Abiud. 

5. Eliakim. 

6. Azor. 

7. Sadoc. 

8. Achim. ^ 

9. Eliud. 

10. Eleazar. 

11. Matthan. 

12. Jacob. 

13. Joseph. 

14. Jesus. 



• Kings omitted in the Gospel are 
Inserted in brackets and italicized. 

t Mt. i. 1-17; Lu. lii. 23-38. 



15. Er. 

16. Elmodam. 

17. Cosam. 

18. Addi. 

19. Melchi. 

20. Neri. 

21. Salathiel.. 

22. Zurobabel. 

23. Rhesa. 

24. Joanna. 

25. Juda. 

26. Joseph. 

27. Semei. 

28. Mattathias. 

29. Maath. 

30. Nagga. 

31. Esli. 

32. Naum. 

33. Amos. 

34. Mattathias. 

35. Joseph. 

36. Janna. 

37. Melchi. 

38. Levi. 

39. Matthat. 

40. Heli. 

41. Joseph. 

42. Jesus, f 



220 JESUS CHBIST. 

Various observations offer themselves on these discrepant 
genealogies. In the first place it will be observed that Mat- 
thew, in his anxiety to show that the whole period comprised is 
divisible into three equal parts of fourteen generations each, 
has actually omitted no less than four generations contained in 
the authorities he followed. For since he traced the descent of 
Joseph through the royal line of Judah, we are enabled to check 
his statements by reference to the Book of Chronicles (1 Chron. 
iii.), and thus to convict him of positive bad faith. In the first 
instance he omits three kings, representing Uzziah as the son 
of Joram, who was his great great grandfather ; in the second 
he passes over Jehoiachim, making Jehoiachin the son instead 
of the grandson of Josiah. In the third period we have no 
authority by which to verify his statements beyond Zerubbabel, 
but his determination to carry out his numerical system at all' 
hazards is shown by the double reckoning of Jehoiachin, at the 
close of the second and the beginning of the third division. 
The latter has io fact but thirteen generations, and it was only 
by this trick — a little concealed by the break effected through 
his allusion to the captivity — that the appearance of uniformity 
was maintained. Luke has adopted a different method. Leav- 
ing the line of kings, he connects Joseph with David through 
Nathan instead of Solomon. Now beyond the fact that Nathan 
was the offspring of David and Bathsheba, nothing whatever is 
known about him. Indeed it may have been his very obscurity, 
and the consequent facility of creating descendants for him, 
that led to his selection in preference to Solomon, though 
unless it were that his name stood next above Solomon's (2 
Sam. V. 14) — there is no obvious reason for his being preferred 
to several other children of David. However, he answered the 
purpose as well as any, and after him it was not a difficult 
operation to invent a plausible list of names to fill up the gap 
between him and Joseph. The compiler of the list in Matthew 
had the advantage in so far that he did not require to draw on 
his imagination except for nine names between Zerubbabel and 
Joseph, while the compiler of the list in Luke had to supply 
the whole period from Nathan downwards with forefathers. 
But the second compiler had the advantage over the first inas- 
much as his fraud did not admit of the same easy exposure by 



•tHE INCARNATION. 221 

reference to its sources, and it was, on the whole, a safer course 
to desert history altogether than to falsify it in favor of an 
arithmetical fancy. 

Another discrepancy between the two writers remains to be 
noted; it is the enormous disproportion in the number of gen- 
erations between David and Joseph. Matthew has twenty-five 
generations, and Luke forty, excluding Joseph himself. A dif- 
ference of this magnitude —involving something like 400-450 
years — is not to be surmounted by any process of harmonizing. 
To which it may be added that the two Evangelists, by assign- 
ing to Joseph different fathers, clearly inform us that his true 
father was unknown. 

We have here, in short, an excellent instance of the first 
order of myth, or myth typical. It has been a common prac- 
tice in all ages, more especially among ignorant and uncultivated 
nations, to endow those who had risen from obscurity to great- 
ness with illustrious ancestors. Royal connections have always 
been regarded with especial favor for such purposes. Thus, the 
Buddha is represented as the descendant of the great Sakya 
monarchs. Thus, the ancestors of Zarathustra, in the genealogy 
provided for him in Parsee authorities, were the ancient kings 
of Persia, Thus, Moslem biographers declare that Mahomet 
sprang from the noblest family of the noblest nation, and many 
historians give him even a princely lineage (L. L. M., vol. i. p. 
140). Thus, according to Sir John Davis, " the pedigree of Con-. 
fucius is traced back in a summary manner to the mythological 
monarch Roang-ty, who is said to have lived more than two 
thousand years before Christ" (Chinese, vol. ii. p. 45). Thus, 
the founder of Rome was placed by popular legend in a family 
relationship to ^neas. 

Leaving these genealogies — which are important only from 
the light they shed on the literary character of their authors 
and transmitters — we pass to the first legend directly concern- 
ing Jesus himself, that of his birth. Here again the second 
and fourth Evangelists are silent, leaving us to suppose that 
Jesus was the natural son of Joseph and Mary, and cer- 
tainly never hinting that they entertained any other belief 
themselves. But the first and third each relate a little fable on 
this subiect, though unhappily for them the fables do not agree. 



222 JESUS CHEIST. . 

Both had to observe two conditions. The first was that Jesus 
should be born of a virgin mother; the second that he should 
be born at Bethlehem. Matthew accomplishes this end by 
informing us that Mary, when espoused to Joseph, was found to 
be with child. Joseph, who thereupon contemplated the rup- 
ture of his engagement, was informed by an angel in a dream 
that his bride was with child by no one but the Holy Ghost; 
that she was to bear a son, and that he was to call him Jesus. 
Being satisfied by this assurance, he married Mary, but 
respected her virginity until she had brought forth her first- 
born son, whom in obedience to his dream he named Jesus. 
The child was born in Bethlehem where it would appear from 
this account that Mary lived, and it is only after a journey to 
Egypt that this Gospel brings the parents of Christ to Nazareth 
where a tradition too firm to be shaken placed their residence 
(Mt. i. 18-25; ii. 23). 

Widely different is the treatment of this subject in Luke. 
According to him there was a priest named Zacharias whose 
wife Elizabeth was barren. The couple -were no longer young, 
but they were not old enough to have lost all hope of progeny, 
tor we are told that when Zacharias was engaged in his duties 
in the temple, an angel appeared to him and informed him 
that his prayer was heard, and that his wife was to have a son 
whom he was to call John. Zacharias had therefore been pray- 
ing for o^spring, though when the angel— who announced him- 
self as Gabriel— appeared, he was troubled with some impious 
doubts, in punishment of which he was struck dumb. After this 
Elizabeth conceived, and went into retirement. From five to 
six months after the above scene Gabriel was again despatched 
from heaven, this time to a virgin named Mary, living at Naz- 
areth. Arrived at her house, he addressed her thus: "Hail,, 
thou that art highly favored ; the Lord is with thee ; blessed art 
thou among women." Seeing Mary's confusion he reassured her ; 
and informed her that she should have a son called Jesus, who 
was to possess the throne of David, and reign over the house of 
Jacob forever. Like Zacharias, Mary was disposed to raise 
troublesome questions, and she accordingly inquired of Gabriel 
how she could bear a child, "seeing I know not a man." But 
Gabriel was ready with his answer. The Holy Ghost would 



THE NATIVITY. 223 

come upon her; moreover, her cousin Elizabeth had conceived 
(which, however, was not a parallel case), and nothing was 
impossible with God. Soon after this visit, Mary went to see 
Elizabeth, who interpreted an ordinary incident of pregnancy 
as a sign that the fruit of Mary's womb was blessed, and that 
Mary was to be the mother of her Lord. The virgin replied in 
• a very elaborate little speech, which if uttered must have been 
carefully prepared for the occasion. In due time the child of 
Zacharias and Elizabeth was born, and named John by his 
parents' desire. What Joseph thought of his bride's condition 
we are not told, nor do we know whether she made known to 
him her interview with the angel Gabriel. At any rate he did 
not repudiate her, for we find him taking her with him, about 
five months later, to Bethlehem, for the purpose of the census 
which took place when Quirinus was governor of Syria, his 
descent from David requiring him to attend at that town. Dur- 
ing this census it was that Jesus was born, and because of the 
crowded condition of the inn at this busy time, he was placed 
in a manger (Lu. i. 1 ; ii. 7). There let us leave him for the 
present, while we compare these narratives with others of a 
like description. 

Birth in some miraculous or unusual manner is a common 
circumstance in the lives of great persons. We have here there- 
fore another instance of the typical species of myth. Thus, in 
classical antiquity, Here is said to have produced flephaistos 
*' without the marriage bed" (Bib., i. 3-5). Turning to a remote 
part of the globe, there was in the present century a person 
living in New Zealand who, according to native tradition, was 
"begotten by the attua," a species of deity, *'his mother being 
then unmarried. The infant was produced at her left arm-pit, 
but there was no visible mark left. . , . He is held as a 
great prophet ; when he says there will be no rain there will be 
none " (N. Z., p. 82). An example of the same kind of legend 
occurs in the ancient history of China. The hero is one HoW- 
tseih, who was the founder of the royal house of Chow. His 
mother, it appears, was barren, like Elizabeth, for she " had 
presented a pure offering and sacrificed, that her childlessness 
might be taken away.*' Her devotion received a fitting reward, 
for:— 



224 JESUS CHElST. 

"She then trod on a toe-print made by God, and was moved. 
In the large place where she rested. 
She became pregnant, she dwelt retired; 
She gave birth to, and nourished [a son], 
Who was How-tseih." , 

His mode of coming into the world was peculiar too:— 

"When she had fulfilled her months 
Her first-born son [came forth] like a lamb. 
There was no bursting, nor rending; 
No injury, no hurt: — 
, Showing how wonderful he would be. 
Did not God give her the comfort ? 
Had he not accepted her pure offering and sacrifice. 
So that thus easily she brought forth her son ?"* 

The gestation of the Buddha was in many ways miraculous. 
He entered the womb of his mother by a voluntary act, resigning 
his abode in heaven for the purpose. At the time of his descent 
upon earth Maya Devi dreamt that a white elephant of singular 
beauty had entered into her, a dream which portended the 
future greatness of the child (R. T. R. P., vol. ii. p. 61). During 
the time of his remaining in the womb, his body, which was 
visible both to his mother and to otliers, had a resplendent and 
glorious appearance.* "Maya the queen, during the time that 
Boddhisattva remained in the womb of his mother, did not feel 
her body heavy, but on the contrary light, at ease and in com- 
fort, and felt no pain in her entrails. She was nowise tormented 
by. the desires of passion, nor by disgust, nor by trouble, and 
had no irresolution against desire, no irresolution against the 

* C. 0. vol. iv. p. 465.— She King. Part ill. Bk. 2, i. 1. 2. 

* Ibid., vol. ii. p. 73. It is very remarkable that the same notion is 
expressed in Christian painf ngs of the middle agres. On a painted glass 
of the sixteenth century, found ia the church of Jouy. a little village In 
France, the virgin is represented standing, her hands clasped in prayr, 
and ti.e naked body of the child in the pane attitude appears upon her 
stomach, apparently supposed to be seen throueh the garments and body 
of the mother. M. Didron saw at Lyons a Salutation painted on shutters, 
in which the two infants, likewise depicted on their mothers' stomachs, 
were also saluting each other. This precisely corresponds to Buddhist 
accounts of the Boddhisattva's ante-natal proceedings.— Ic. Chr. p. 263. 



THE NATIVITY. 225 

thought of evil or of vice. She suffered the sensation neither 
of cold, nor of heat, nor of hunger, nor of thirst, nor of trouble, 
nor of passion, nor of fatigue: she saw nothing of which the 
form, the sound, the smell, the taste and the touch did not 
seem to her agreeable. She had no bad dreams. The tricks of 
women, their inconstancy, their jealousy, the defects of women 
and their weaknesses, she did not share " (Ibid., vol. ii. p. 77) 
And although it is never expressly stated that the Buddha's 
nominal father had no part in his production, it is remarkable 
that at the time of her conceiving, Maya was living in a place 
apart from him, having craved permission to retire for a sea- 
son, to practice fasting and penance. During this time she had 
told the king that she would be " completelj'^ delivered from 
thoughts of stealing, desire and pride," and that she would not 
"yield to one illicit desire" (K. T. K. P., vol. ii. pp. 54, 55). 
Some sects of Buddhists are more explicit, and maintain that 
Boddhisattvas do not pass through the earlier stages of foetal 
development; namely, those of Ealalam, mixing up, the period 
of the first week, when the future body is like milk : arbudam, 
the period of the secend week, where a form rises like something 
inflated ; peci, thickening : and ghana, hardening, the periods of 
the third and fourth weeks (Wassiljew, p. 260). But all this does 
not exclude the cooperation of a human father. Passing to 
another great religion, we find that even the sober philosopher 
Confucius did not enter the world, if we may believe Chinese 
traditions, without premonitory symptoms of his greatness. It 
is said that one day as his mother was ascending a hill, " the 
leaves of the trees and plants all erected themselves and bent 
downwards on her return. That night she dreamt the Black Te 
appeared, and said to her, * You shall have a son, a sage, and 
you must bring him forth in a hollow mulberry tree.'" In 
another dream she received a prophecy of the importance of 
her coming progeny (G. C, vol. 1. p. 59 — Proleg). Another ac- 
count states that "various prodigies, as in other instances, were 
the forerunners of the birth of this extraordinary person. On 
the eve of his appearance on earth, two dragons encircled the 
house, and celestial music sounded in the ears of his mother. 
When he was born, this inscription appeared on his breast — 
'The maker of a rule for settling the world' " (Chinese, vol. ii. 



226 JESUS CHRIST. 

p. 44). The mother of Mahomet is said to have related of her 
pregnancy, that she felt none of the usual inconveniences of 
that state; and that she had seen a vision in which she had 
been told that she bore in her womb the Lord and Prophet of 
her people. A little before her delivery the same figure appeared 
again, and commanded her to say, "I commend the fruit of 
my body to the One, the Eternal, for protection against the 
envious " (L. L. M., vol. i. p. 142). 

Miraculously born, it was necessary that Jesus should also 
be miraculously recognized as a child of no common order. 
The story would have been incomplete without some one to 
acknowledge his superhuman character even in his cradle. 
Matthew and Luke again accomplish the common end by widely 
different means. Luke's is the simpler narrative, and it will be 
more convenient to begin with. He tells us that there were in 
the same country, that is, near Bethlehem, shepherds watching 
their flocks. An angel appeared to them and said that a Savior, 
Christ the Lord, was born in the city of David. They were to 
know him by his being in a manger wrapped in swaddling 
clothes. In this humility of his external circumstances imme- 
diately after birth, r,s in the supernatural recognition which he 
received, he again resembles the Chinese hero. How-tseih 

"was placed in a narrow lane. 
But the sheep and oxen protected him with loving care. 
He was placed in a wide forest, 
Where he was met by the woodcutters. 
He was placed on the cold ice. 
And a bird screened and supported him with its wings."* 

"And suddenly," the narrative in Luke proceeds, "there was 
with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God 
and saying, 'Glory to God in the highest, and on earth the 
peace of good-will among men ' " (Lu. ii. 8-14). Similar demon- 
strations of celestial delight were not wanting at the birth of 
the Buddha Sakyamuni. He was received by the greatest of the 
gods, Indra and Brahma. All beings everywhere were full of 
joy. Musical instruments belonging to men and gods played of 

* C. 0., vol. iv. p. 468.— She King, Pt. iii. Bk. 2. i. 3. 



THE DANGEKOUS CHILD. 227 

themselves. Trees became covered with flowers and fruit. There 
fell from the skies a gentle shower of flowers, garments, odor- 
iferous powders, and ornaments. Caressing breezes blew. A 
marvelous light was produced. Evil passions were put a stop 
to, and illnesses were cured; miseries of all kinds were at an 
end (E. T. K. P., vol. ii. pp. 90, 91). So also we read in Moslem 
authorities that at the birth of Ali, Mahomet's great disciple, 
and the chief of one of the two principal sects into which Islam 
is divided, "a light was distinctly visible, resembling a bright 
column, extending from the earth to the firmament" (Dervishes, 
p. 372). But let us complete the narrative in Luke. 

Urged by the angelic order, the shepherds went to Bethle- 
hem and found the infant Christ, whose nature, as revealed by 
the angels, they made. known to the people with whom they 
met. Eeturning, they praised and glorified God for all they had 
heard and seen (Lu. ii. 15-20). 

Quite dissimilar is the form in which the same incident ap- 
pears in Matthew. Here, instead of shepherds, we havp magi 
coming from the East to discover the King of the Jews. A star 
in the East had revealed to them the birth of this King of the 
Jew-s de jure, and in the search for him they run straight into 
the very jaws of Herod, the king de facto. The author is obliged 
to make them take this absurdly improbable course for the sake 
of introducing Herod, whom he required for a purpose shof tly 
to be explained. How utterly superfluous the visit to Herod was 
is evinced by the fact that, after that monarch has found out 
from the chief priests the birthplace of the Messiah, the magi 
are guided onwards by the star, which had been omitted from 
the story since its first appearance in order to allow of their 
journey to Jerusalem, a mistake for which the star could not 
be made responsible. However, after leaving Herod, they were 
led by that luminary to the very spot where Christ lay. On 
seeing the infant they worshiped him, and offered him magnifi- 
cent presents, after which a dream informed them — what their 
waking senses might surely have discovered — that it was not 
safe to return to Herod after having thus acknowledged a rival 
claimant to the throne. They accordingly went home another 
way. 

Interwoven with this visit of the magi we have a myth which 



228 JESUS CHRIST. ^ 

belongs to a common form, and which in the present instance 
is merely adapted to the special circumstances of the age and 
place. I term it the myth of the dangerous child. Its general 
outline is this: A child is born concerning whose future great- 
ness some prophetic indications have been given. But the life 
of this child is fraught with danger to some powerful individ- 
ual, generally a monarch. In alarm at his threatened fate, this 
person endeavors to take the child's life; but it is preserved by 
the divine care. Escaping the measures directed against it, and 
generally remaining long unknown, it at length fulfills the 
prophecies concerning its career, while the fate which he has 
vainly sought to shun falls upon him who had desired to slay 
it. There is a departure here from the ordinary type, inasmuch 
as Herod does not actually die or suffer any calamity through 
the agency of Jesus. But this failure is due to the fact that 
Jesus did not fulfill the conditions of the Messiahship, according 
to the Jewish conception which Matthew has here in mind. 
Had he— as was expected of the Messiah — become the actual 
sovereign of the Jews, he must have dethroned the reigning 
dynasty, whether represented by Herod or his successors. But 
as his subsequent career belied these expectations, the Evange- 
list was obliged to postpone to a future time his accession to 
that throne of temporal dominion which the incredulity of his 
countrymen had withheld from him during his earthly life (Mt. 
xxiv. 30, 31 ; xxv. 31 ff. ; xxvi. 64). 

In other respects the legend before us conforms to its proto- 
types. The magi, coming to Herod, inquire after the where- 
abouts of the king of the Jews, whose star they have seen in 
the East. Herod summons the chief priests and scribes to coun- 
cil, and ascertains of them that Christ was to be born at Beth- 
lehem. This done, he is careful to learn from the magi the 
exact date at which the star had appeared to them. He further 
desires them to search diligently for the young child, that he 
also may worship it. They, as previously related, returned home 
without revisiting Herod, whereupon that monarch, in anger at 
the deception practiced upon him, causes all the children under 
two years of age, in and about Bethlehem, to be slaughtered. 
All is in vain. Joseph, warned by a dream, had taken his wife 
and step-son to Egypt, where they remained until after the 



THE DANGEROUS CHILD. 229 

death of Herod, when another dream commanded them to 
return. When afraid to enter the dominions of Archelaus, an- 
other of these useful dreams guided them to Galilee, where they 
took up their quarters at Nazareth (Mt. ii). 

How wide-spread and of what frequent recurrence is this 
myth of the Dangerous Child, a few examples may suffice to 
show. Ill Grecian mythology the king of the gods himself had 
been a dangerous child. The story of Kronos swallowing his 
children in order to defeat the prophecy that he would be de- 
throned by his own son; the manner in which Ehea deceived 
him by giving him a stone, and Zeus, armed with thunder and 
lightning, deposed him from the government of the world, are 
familiar to all (Bib. 1. 1. 5-7, and 1. 2. 1). If we descend from 
gods to heroes, we find a similar legend relate. I of Perseus, 
whose grandfather, Akrisios, vainly tried to avert his predicted 
fate, first by scheming to prevent his grandson's birth, and 
then by seeking to destroy him when born (Ibid., 2. 4. 1. 4.); 
and of Oidipous, who in spite of the attempt to cut short his 
life in infancy, inevitably and unconsciously fulfilled the oracle 
by slaying his father and marrying his mother. Within histor- 
ical times, Kyros, the son of Kambyses is the hero of a similar 
tale. His grandfather, Astyages, had dreamt certain dreams 
which were interpreted by the magi to mean that the offspring 
of his daughter Mandane would expel him from his kingdom. 
Alarmed at the prophecy, he handed the child to his kinsman 
Harpagos to be killed; but this man having entrusted it to a 
shepherd to be exposed, the latter contrived to save it by ex- 
hibiting to the emissaries of Hari)agos the body of a stillborn 
child of which his own wife had just been delivered. Grown to 
man's estate, Kyros of course justified the prediction of the 
magi by his successful revolt against Astj-ages and assumption 
of the monarchy (Herodotos, i. 107-130). Jewish tradition, like 
that of the Greeks and the Persians, has its dangerous child in 
the person of the national hero Moses, whose death Pharaoh 
had endeavored to effect by a massacre of innocents, but who 
had lived to bring upon that ruler his inevitable fate. From 
these well-known examples it is interesting to turn to the 
chronicles of the East-Mongols, and find precisely the same tale 
repeated there. We read that a certain king of a people called 



230 JESUS CHKIST. 

Patsala, had a son whose peculiar appearance led the Brahmins 
at court to prophesy that he would bring evil upon his father, 
and to advise his destruction, Various modes of execution hav- 
ing failed, the boy was laid in a copper chest and thrown into 
the Ganges. Eescued by an old peasant who brought him up 
as his son, he in due time learnt the story of his escape, and 
returned to seize upon the kingdom destined for him from his 
birth. This was in b. c. 313 (G. O. M., pp. 21, 23). This universal 
myth — of the natural origin of which it would lead me too 
far to speak — was now adapted to the special case of Christ, 
who runs the usual risk and escapes it with the usual good 
fortune of dangerous children. 

Having thus preserved the infant Christ from the dangers 
that threatened him, Matthew tells us absolutely nothing about 
him until he has arrived at manhood, and is ready to enter on 
his public life.. Luke is much less reticent. True, he knows 
nothing whatever of the star that appeared in the East; noth- 
ing of Herod's inquiries as to the birthplace of Christ; noth- 
ing of the massacre of the innocents, nor of the flight into 
Egypt and the return from that country to Nazareth. On the 
contrary, his narrative by implication excludes all this, for he 
makes Joseph and Mary go up to Bethlehem for the census 
only, and return to Nazareth soon after it; so that Herod could 
have had no occasion to kill the infants up to the age of two 
years, for Christ could not have been above a few weeks old at 
most (Lu. ii. 39). Moreover, we learn definitely from one verse 
that his parents went up from Nazareth to Jerusalem every 
year at the passover (Ibid., ii. 41). But the absence of any 
Statements like those just taken from the first Gospel is amply 
compensated in the third by several pleasing details relating to 
his infancy and boyhood. In the first place we learn that after 
eight days he was circumcised, and named Jesus according to 
the angel's desire (Ibid,, ii. 21). Next, we are told that after 
his mother's purification — which would last thirty-three days 
after the circumcision — she and his step-father took him to the 
temple to be presented, and to make the customary offering. 
There was in the temple a man named Simeon who had been 
promised by the Holy Ghost that he should not die till he had 
seen Christ. This man, who came by the Spirit into the temple, 



THE INJ'ANCY. 231 

took the baby in his arms and gave vent to his emotion in tlio 
beautiful little hymn known as the Nunc Dimittis:— "'Now, O 
Lord, thou dost release thy servant according to thy word in 
peace, because mine eyes have seen thy salvation, which thou 
hast prepared before the face of all nations; a light for the 
revelation of the Gentiles and the glory of thy people Israel '* 
(Lu. ii. 29-32). 

Less exquisite in its simplicity, but not altogether dissim- 
ilar in tone, is the prophecy of the Kishi Asita on the infant 
Buddha. This old and eminent ascetic had come to see the 
child whose marvelous gifts had been known to him by super- 
natural signs. Having embraced its feet, and predicted its 
future preeminence, he had surprised the king by bursting into 
tears and heaving long sighs. Questioned about the meaning of 
this he replied: "Great king, it is not on account of this child 
that I weep ; truly there is not in him the smallest vice. Great 
king, I am old and broken ; and this young prince (Literally, 
Sarvarthasiddha) will certainly clothe himself with the perfect 
and complete intelligence of Buddha, and will cause the wheel 
of the law that has no superior to turn. . . . After becoming 
Buddha he will cause hundreds of thousands of millions of 
beings to pass to the other border of the ocean of wandering 
life, and will lead them forever to immortality. And I— I shall 
not see this pearl of Buddhas ! Cured of illness, I shall not be 
freed by him from passion ! Great king, that is why I weep, 
and why in my sadness I heave long sighs " (R. T. R. P., vol. ii. 
pp. 106, 107). 

So Abd-al-mottalib, Mahomet's grandfather, on seeing his 
grandchild immediately after his. birth, is reported to have 
exclaimed: ''Praise be to Allah, who has given me this glorious 
youth, who even in the cradle rules over other boys. I commend 
him to the protection of Allah, the Lord of the four elements, 
that he may show him to us when he is well grown up. To 
his protection I commend him from the evil of the wicked 
spirit" (L. L..M., vol. i. p. 143). 

Prognostications of greatness in infancy are, indeed, among 
the stock incidents in the mythical or semi-mythical lives of 
eminent persons. Not content with Simeon's recogniiion, Luke 
introduces an old prophetess called Anna, living in the temple. 



232 JESUS CHRIST. 

and represents her as giving thanlis, and speaking of the child 
to all who looked for redemption in Jerusalem (Lu. ii.). -3893 

Twelve years are now suffered to elapse without further 
account of the young Jesus than that he grew and strengthened, 
filled with wisdom, and that the grace of God was upon him 
(Ibid., ii. 40). At twelve years old, the blank is filled by a sin- 
gle event. His parents had gone to Jerusalem to keep the pass- 
over, taking Jesus with them. On their way back they missed 
him, and having failed to find him among their traveling com- 
panions, returned to look for him at Jerusalem. There they 
found him in the temple sitting among the doctors of the law, 
listening to them and putting questions. Those who heard him 
are said to have been astonished at his intelligence. Questioned 
by his mother as to this extraordinary conduct, he replied, 
"How is it that ye sought me? wist ye not that I must be 
about my Father's business?" (Lu. ii. 41-50.) Were this incident 
confirmed by other authorities, and did it stand in some kind 
of connection with the events that precede and follow it, we 
might accept it as a genuine remiDiscence of the boyhood of 
Jesus. That a precocious boy, eager for information, should 
take the opportunity of a visit to the head-quarters of Hebraic 
learning to seek from the authorities then most respected a 
solution of questions that troubled his mind, would not in 
itself be so very surprising. And those who are familiar with 
the kind of inquiries made by clever children, especially on 
theological topics, will not think it strange that his youthful 
wits should occasionally be too much for those of professed 
theologians. But the isolation in which this single event stands 
in the first thirty years of Christ's life, and the total absence of 
confirmation from any other source, compel us to regard it as 
an invention designed to show an early consciousness in Jesus 
of his later mission, and also to prove the inability of the doc- 
tors to cope with him, We must, therefore, reject it along with 
the other myths of the infancy, of which some are typical 
myths, others (like this) myths peculiar to Jesus, but none in " 
the smallest degree historical. 

Before entering on the later life of Jesus, let us note certain 
differences between Matthew and Luke ia their treatment of 
the infancy, which will confirm the above conclusion. In the 



CONTRAST BETWEEN MATTHEW AND LtlKE. 233 

first place, it is to be observed that they effect the desired end 
by totally unlike methods. Given the problem of getting the 
infant Christ born without the assistance of a father, there were 
various ways in which readers could be assured of the truth of 
such a miracle. One was to inform Joseph in a dream of the 
coming event; another was to announce it to Mary by means 
of an angel. In choosing between these expedients each 
Evangelist is guided by his own idiosyncracy. Matthew selects 
the dream ; Luke the angel ; and it is noteworthy that on other 
occasions they exhibit similar preferences. Matthew gets out 
of every difficulty by a dream. In the course of his two first 
chapters he uses this favorite contrivance no less than five 
times; four times for Joseph, and once for the magi (Mt. i. 20, 
and ii. 12, 13, 22). Twice, it is true, he mentions an angel of 
the Lord as appearing in the dream, but the angel in his nar- 
rative plays a very subordinate part, and is, indeed, practically 
superfluous. With Luke, on the contrary, the principal agent 
in the events of the infancy is the angel, who supplies the 
place of the dream in Matthew. An angel informs Zacharias 
that his wife is to have a son ; an angel declares to Mary that 
she is destined to give birth to the Son of God; an angel 
announces that event to the shepherds after its occurrence ; and 
angels appear in crowds above them as soon as the announce- 
ment has been made (Lu. i. 11, 26, and ii. 9, 13). Another strik- 
ing difference is the extreme fondness of Matthew for ancient 
prophecies, and of Luke for little anthems and for songs of praise. 
The diverse natures of the two writers are well exemplified by 
this distinction ; the former being the more penetrated with the 
history and literature of the Jewish race; the latter the more 
flexible and the more imbued with the spirit of his age. 
Hence, Matthew almost avowedly constructs his narrative in 
such a manner as to ensure the fulfillment of the prophecies. 
After describing Mary's miraculous conception, he says that all 
this was done to fulfill Isaiah's words: *' Behold, a virgin shall 
conceive" (more accurately; the maiden has conceived), *' and 
shall bear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel " (Mt. i. 23; 
Isa. vii. 14). And this he quotes, regardless of' the fact that 
Christ never was called Immanuel, and that if the one clause 
of the prophecy is to be understood literally, so must the other. 



234 JESUS CHRIST. 

Thus also he reveals his reason for assigning to Bethlehem the 
honor of being Christ's birthplace, when he places in the 
mouths of the priests at the court of Herod a verse from 
Micah, in which it is asserted that from Bethlehem Ephratah 
shall come a man who is to be ruler in Israel (Mt. ii. 6; Mic. v. 
2). Further, he massacres the innocents in order to corroborate 
a saying of Jeremiah (Mt. ii. 18; Jer. xxxi. 15), and he takes 
Joseph and Mary to Egypt to confirm an expression of Hosea 
(]Mt, ii. 15; Hos. xi. 1). In each case, he perverts the natural 
sense of the prophets; for in Jeremiah, the children are to 
return to' their own land, which the innocents could not do; and 
in Hosea, the son who is called out of Egypt is the people of 
Israel. Lastly, in his exceeding love of quoting the Old Testa- 
ment, he commits the most singular blunder of all in applying 
to Christ the words spoken of Samson by the angel wh,o 
announced his birth. If, indeed, the allusion be to this passage 
(and it can scarcely be to any other), the Evangelist is barely 
honest; for he converts the angelic words, "he shall be a Naz- 
arite,'' into the words "he shall be called a Nazarene" .{Mt. ii. 
23 ; Judg. xiii. 5). So Judaic a writer could hardly be ignorant 
that a Nazarite was not the same thing as an inhabitant of 
Nazareth. But from whatever source the quotation may come, 
its object plainly is to lead to the belief that notwithstanding 
his birth at Bethlehem, Jesus was called by his contempora- 
ries a Nazarene. 

Luke does not trouble himself with the search for ancient 
oracles, but indulges a far freer and more inventive genius. 
His personages give utterance to their feelings in highly fin- 
ished songs, which are sometimes very beautiful, but most cer- 
tainly could never have been uttered by the simple people to 
whom, he attributes them. Among these are the salutation of 
Elizabeth to Mary, and the still more elaborate answer of Mary. 
Zacharias, the very instant he recovers his speech, recites a 
complete hymn of no inconsiderable length (Lu. i. 68-79). 
Again, Simeon expresses his joy at the birth of the Savior in a 
similar manner (Ibid., ii. 29-32); but in his case it may be said 
that he had so long expected to see the Christ that his hymn 
of thanksgiving might well be ready. 

Passing now to the manhood of Jesus, we find the four 



THE BAPTISM BY JOHN. 235 

Evangelists all agreed in recording the baptism by John as the 
earliest known event in his adult career, and it is unquestion- 
ably with this consecration by a great man that his authentic 
life begins. Mark and John indeed were unaware of anything 
previous to this period, and the former introduces it by the. 
words, ''The beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ the Son 
of God " (Mk. i. 1), showing that for him at least the history 
of his Master began at this point. As usual, the myth appears 
in its simplest form in his pages. After applying to John the 
Baptist a prophecy by Isaiah, he states that this prophet was 
engaged ia baptizing in the wilderness, and that all Judea and 
all the Jerusalemites went out to him and were baptized, con- 
fessing their sins. He declared that a mightier than he was 
coming after him, the latchet of whose shoes he was unworthy 
to unloose. Jesus, like the rest of the world, went to be bap- 
tized, and as he came out of the water he saw the heavens 
opened, and the Spirit descending on him like a dove. There 
was a voice from the heavens, *' Thou art my beloved Son, in 
thee I am well pleased." Matthew and Luke describe the bap- 
tism of John in a similar manner, Matthew adding a conversa- 
tion between Jesus and John. They also mention the baptism 
of Jesus, the descent of the dove, and the voice, but with slight 
variations. For whereas Mark merely says that Jesus saw the 
heavens opened and the Spirit like a dove descending, and 
Matthew, in substantial accordance with him, relates that the 
heavens were opened [to him], and that lie saw the Spirit de- 
scend as a dove, Luke going further, pretends that the heavens 
were opened, and that the spirit did ascend in a bodily form 
like a dove upon him (Mk. i, 1-12 ; Mt. iii. ; Lu. iii. 1-22). Thus 
is the subjective fact in the consciousness of Jesus gradually 
changed into an objective fact, a transition deserving to be noted 
as illustrative of the trivial changes of language by which a 
myth may grow. Several other examples of a like process will 
meet us in the course of this inquiry. The scene at the baptism 
is described differently again in the fourth Gospel. There the 
testimony of John the Baptist to Christ is rendered far more 
emphatic; he receives him with the words, "Behold the Lamb 
of God, who taketh away the sins of the world;" and he ex- 
plains his knowledge of him by the fact that he has received 



236 JESUS CHBIST. 

a special revelation concerning him. On whomsoever he saw 
the Spirit descend and remain, that was he who was to baptize 
with the Holy Ghost. Now he had seen the Spirit descend 
like a dove on Jesus, and therefore had borne witness that 
he was the son of God (John i. 6-37). Of the opening of the 
heavens and of the voice nothing is said, and the meaning 
of the whole story evidently is that this descent of the Spirit 
was a private sign arranged between God and John the Bap- 
tist, but of which the bystanders either perceived nothing, or 
understood nothing. For had they known that the Holy Ghost 
itself was thus bearing witness to Jesus, what need was there 
of the witness of John ? It is evident, however, that even if 
they saw the dove flying down and alighting upon Jesus, they 
were not informed that it represented the Holy Spirit. Thus the 
whole fact is reduced to a peculiar interpretation given by John 
to a natural occurrence. We have then three versions of the 
baptismal myth:— in the first certain circumstances are per- 
ceived by Jesus ; in the second they are perceived by John ; in 
the third they actually occur. 

Strangely inconsistent with this distinct acknowledgment of 
Christ as the son of God, is the inquiry addressed to him at a 
subsequent period by John the Baptist through his disciples. 
It appears that on hearing of the extraordinary fame of Jesus 
and of the course he was pursuing, John sent two disciples 
from the prison where he was confined to put this question to 
him, "Art thou he that should come, or do we expect another?" 
in other w^ords, Are you the Messiah? Thus interrogated, Jesus 
replied, not by appeal! Dg to the testimony of the dove at his 
baptism, or the voice from heaven, but by citing the miraculous 
cures he was then performing. Nor did he in the least resent 
the doubt implied in John the Baptist's query. On the con- 
trary, he immediately entered upon a glowing panegyric of his 
precursor, describing him as the messenger sent before his face 
to prepare his way, and as the prophet Elias who was expected 
to come — (Mt. xi, 1-15; Lu. vii. 18-30) — a title which in another 
Gospel the Baptist had expressly repudiated (Jo. i. 21). This 
remarkable transaction between the two teachers could not 
easily, have occurred, if the elder had previously discovered " him 
that should come" in the person of Jesus. For then we must 



THE TEMPTATION. 237 

suppose that since the baptism he had seen reason to hesitate 
as to the correctness of his opinion. And in that case, could he 
have referred the question to Jesus himself for his decision? 
And could Jesus have emploj^ed the terms of praise here given, 
in speaking of one who had lapsed from his former faith into 
a state of doubt? Plainly not. The Evangelists have overshot 
the mark in their narrative of the baptism. Eager to make 
John bear witness to Jesus, they have forgotten that it was 
only at a later period that he was convinced — if he was con- 
vinced at all — of the Messianic claims of the young man who 
had passed under his influence, and derived from him some of 
his earliest inspirations. His doubts are historical; his convic- 
tion is mythical. 

Temporary retirement into solitude naturally followed upon 
the consecration administered by John in the baptismal rite. 
Jesus spent some time wandering in a lonely place, the period 
of forty days assigned to this purpose being naturally suggested 
by the forty years of Israel's troubles in the wilderness. If 
there mingled among his meditations any lingering feelings of 
reluctance to follow the course pointed out by the Baptist, he 
would have afterwards dsscribed such feelings as temptations of 
the devil. Hence, it may be, the story of his conversations 
with Satan. These are not alluded to at all in Mark, who 
simply mentions the fact that he was tempted by Satan. Neither 
is there any reference in Mark to fasting for the whole of the 
forty days or any part of them. Greatly improving upon this 
bald version, the other two Synoptics tell us that he ate nothing 
during all this time, and describe the very words of his dia- 
logues with the tempter. Satan had besought him to make 
bread out of stones ; to cast himself down from a high place, 
and to accept at his hands all the kingdoms of earth in return 
for a single act of worship (Mk. i. 12, 13; Mt. iv. l-U; Lu.' iv. 
1-13). Jesus, like the Buddha at the corresponding period of 
his life, emerged triumphant from the trial. It was by no 
means equal in severity to that which Sakyamuni underwent. 
He also was obliged to overcome the devil before he could 
attain perfection. *' Mara the sinner," the Indian Satan, assailed 
him not only by fqrce of arms, despatching an immense army 
against him ; but finding this onslaught a failure, he tried the 



238 JESUS CHEIST. 

subtler mode of attempting to corrupt his virtue by the seduc- 
tions of women. His beautiful daughters were despatched with 
orders to display all their charms, and employ all their fascin- 
ations before the young monk. They faithfuly executed the 
commission, but all was in vain. Calm and unmoved, the Bodd- 
hisattva regarded them with complete indifference, and emerged 
from this severest of trials a perfect Buddha (E. T. E. P., vol. 
ii. p. 286-327). In like manner Zarathustra was tempted by the 
Parsee devil, Angra-mainyus, who held out a promise of happi- 
ness if he would but curse the good law. Like Jesus, Zarathus- 
tra repelled the suggestion with indignation: "I will not curse 
the good Mazdayasna law, not even if limbs, soul, and life were 
to part from one another " vAv., vol. i. p. 244. — Fargard xix. 23-26. 
Not long after his return from the desert, Jesus took up his 
abode at the village of Kapharnaoum, or Capernaum, in Galilee, 
Nazareth being in several ways uncongenial to him (Mk. ii. 1 ; 
Mt. iv. 12-16). In the first place it was the abode of his family, 
who did not believe in the pretensions he now began to ad- 
vance. Moreover, he was well known to the Nazarenes as the 
carpenter, or the carpenter's son, and it seemed an unwarrant- 
able presumption in their young townsman, undistinguished by 
advantages either of birth or education, to claim to become 
their teacher (Mk. vi. 3). His relations also not only discredited 
him by their unbelief, but occasionally took active measures to 
stop his proceedings (Mk. iii. 21, 31). From these and perhaps 
other causes, he 'entirely failed to accomplish any important 
miracle at Nazareth, and he had to excuse his failure by the 
remark that a prophet is not without honor except in his own 
country, among his own relations, and in his own house (Ibid., 
vi. 4). The more natural version — that of Mark — adds that he 
marvelled because of their unbelief. With less simplicity Mat- 
thew relates^ not that he was unable to do, but that he did not 
do many mighty works there because of their unbelief (Mt. xiii. 
54-58). Farther confirmation of the incredulity of the Nazarenes 
is afforded by their reception of a remarkable sermon said to 
have been delivered by Jesus in th'eir synagogue. It seems that 
after he had preached in various parts of Galilee, and had been 
well received, he came to Nazareth and, having read a Messianic 
prophecy from Isaiah, proceeded to apply it to himself. Having 



THE SERMON AT NAZARETH. 239 

noticed the demand which he expected would be addressed to 
him, that he should repeat there such works as he was reported 
to have performed at Capernaum, he proceeded to convey by 
some pointed illustrations from the Old Testament the unflat- 
tering intimation that Nazareth was to be less favored by God 
than his adopted home. Hereupon a storm arose in the syna- 
gogue, and an effort was made by the enraged audience to cast 
him from the brow of a hill. But he escaped in safety to his 
own residence at Capernaum (Lu. iv. 14-30). 

Whether or not any such sermon was preached or any such 
attempt upon his life was made, the narrative bears further 
witness to the fact of ill success in the town where he had been 
brought up, and to his possession of a house or lodging at Caper- 
naum. Whether he himself was the owner of the abode, or 
whether it belonged to a disciple who received him (of which 
latter there is no evidence), makes little difference; the repre- 
sentation afterwards made that foxes had holes, and birds had 
nests, but the son of man had not where to lay his head (Mt. 
viii. 19, 20; Lu. ix. 57, 58), is equally negatived by either suppo- 
sition. Mark and John know nothing of this condition of the 
son of man. In John's Gospel, indeed, it is distinctly contra- 
dicted by the statement that two of the Baptist's disciples asked 
him to show them where he lived ; that he did so, and that they 
staid with him that day (Jo. i. 39). Indirect evidence of the 
same kind is afforded by the notice of an entertainment given 
by Jesus at his own house, to which he invited a very promis- 
cuous company. Luke, indeed, represents this feast as having 
been given by Levi, but this is evidently for the sake of an 
artistic connection with the summons to Levi, which in all three 
narratives immediately precedes it. For the same reason he 
departs from both other Evangelists in making the scribes at 
this very feast put the question why Jesus and his disciples did 
not fast, which, according to the more trustworthy version, is 
put by the disciples of the Baptist (Mk. ii. 18-22; Mt. ix. 14-17; 
Lu. V. 33-39). Thus Luke contrives to convert three unconnected 
stories into a single connected one. That Jesus received the 
more degraded classes of his countrymen on equal terms, and 
that his habits were not ascetic, are the important facts which 
we have to gather from these several statements. 



240 JESUS CHRIST. 

The inference from the evidence on the whole is that Jesus 
was in comfortable, though not opulent circumstances; and 
even had he been in want, he had friends enough Avhose devo- 
tion would never have allowed him to remain without a good 
lodging and sufficient food. 

These friends he seems to have begun collecting round him as 
soon as he entered upon his career of preaching in Galilee. 
Among the earliest were four fishermed, Simon and his brother 
Andrew, James and his brother John. X'he first pair of brothers 
Jesus called away from their occupation, saying, ** Follow me, 
and I will make you fishers of men" (Mk. i. 16-20; Mt. iv. 18- 
22). So say two Gospels, but a very different account appears in 
John. There we are told that two of the disciples of John the 
Baptist having heard Jesus, left their master to follow him. 
One of these two was Andrew, Simon's brother, and it was 
Andrew who went and informed Simon that he had discovered 
the Messiah. On seeing Simon, Jesus addresses him, **Thou 
art Simon the son of John ; thou shalt be called Kephas " (Jo. 
i. 38-43). Not a word is said here of the calling of fishermen 
pursued by these brothers, nor* of the remarkable promise to 
make them fishers of men. Moreover it is they who present 
themselves to Jesus ; not he who summons them. The two ac- 
counts are mutually exclusive. 

Luke has a third version, not absolutely irreconcilable with 
that of Mark and Matthew, though inconsistent in all its de- 
tails. According to him, Jesus had once been speaking to the 
people from Simon's boat, which was lying on the lake of Gen- 
nesaret. The address concluded, he desired Simon to launch 
into the lake and let down the nets. Simon replied that they had 
toiled all night and caught nothing; yet he would obey. On 
casting out the net it was found to inclose so great a multitude 
of fishes that it broke. Simon called to his partners, James and 
John, to come to his assistance, and both vessels were not only 
filled with fish, but began to sink with the weight. Peter, 
ascribing this large haul to the presence of Jesus, begged him 
to depart from him, for he was a sinful man. Jesus told him, 
as in the other Gospels he tells him and his brother Andrew 
(who does not appear here), that he shall henceforth catch men. 
Hereupon all the three forsook all, and followed him; from 



THE DISCIPLES. 241 

which it must clearly be understood that they had not followed 
him before. Thus, that which the simpler version represents 
as a mere summons, obeyed at once, is here converted into a 
summons enfoiced upon the fishermen by a professional success 
so great as to af)pear to theni miraculous, and to lead in their 
minds to the inference that since Jesus had commanded them 
to let down the nets, and their obedience had been thus re- 
warded, he was in some obscure manner the cause of the good 
fortune wliich had attended their efforts (Lu. v. 1-11). 

Leaving aside for the present all that is peculiar to John, 
who alone mentions the calling of Philip, there is but one other 
disciple concerning whom we have any information as to the 
mode in which he was led to join Jesus. This is Levi, or Mat- 
thew, the publican. Jesus found him sitting at the receipt of 
custom, and commanded him to follow him, which he instantly 
did (Mk. ii. 14; Mt. ix. 9; Lu. v. 27, 28). But we are not com- 
pelled to suppose that from this time forward Levi did nothing 
but accompany Jesus or go through the country preaching the 
new faith. He may have done so, or he may only have left his 
business from time to time to listen to the prophet who had so 
deeply impressed him. For while three Evangelists mention 
this circumstance, only one of them, and that the least trust- 
worthy, adds that in following Jesus he left all things. 

The names of the other seven disciples are given with but a 
single variation in all of the synoptical Gospels (Mk. iii. 14-19; 
Mt. X. 1-4; Lu. vi. 12-16). To these twelve their master gave 
power to heal diseases and to cast out devils, and sent them 
forth into the world to preach the coming of the kingdom of 
heaven, giving them instructions as to the manner in which 
they should fulfill their mission (Mk. iii. 14, 15; Mt. x. 5-15; Lu. 
ix. 1-6). When not thus engaged, they were to remain about 
his person, and form an inner circle of intimate friends, to 
receive his more hidden thoughts, and help him in the work he 
had undertaken. 

The four who were the first to join him seem to have stood 
towards liim in a closer relationship than anyone else, and to 
have been in fact his only thorough disciples during the earliest 
period of his life. For we read that after the cure of a demon- 
iac effected in the synagogue at Capernaum(Mk, i. 21-28 ; Lu. iv. 



242 JESUS CHRIST. \ 

31-37), he retired into the house of Simon and Andrew, with 
James and John, and there healed Simon's mother-in-law of a 
fever by the touch of his hands, a species of remedy which 
requires no miracle to render it effectual (Mk. i. 29-31; Mt. 
viii. 14, 15 ; Lu. iv. 38, 39). His reputation as ' a thaumaturgist 
had now begun to spread, and crowds of people besieged his 
door, whom he relieved of various diseases, and from whom he 
expelled many devils (Mk. i. 32-34; Mt. viii. 16, 17; Lu. iv. 40, 
41). The anxiety of the devils to bear witness to his Messiah- 
ship he repressed, on this as on other occasions. Mentioning 
these circumstances, Matthew, ever prone to strengthen his 
case by the authority of a Hebrew prophet, cites Isaiah, *'He 
himself took our infirmities, and bore our sicknesses." Cer- 
tainly not a very happy application of prophecy; since it no- 
where appears that Jesus bore the diseases he cured, or ^was 
possessed by the devils he expelled. 

Anxious to escape from the pressure of the people, who clam- 
ored for miracles, he retired to a desert place to pray. But 
here Simon and others followed him and told him that all men 
were seeking him. He replied that he must carry his message 
to other villages also, and proceeded on a tour through Galilee, 
preaching and casting out devils (Mk. i. 35-39; Lu. iv. 42-44). It 
was on some occasion during this Galilean journey, when crowds, 
eager to hear his doctrine and see his wonders, had pressed 
around him from every quarter that he delivered the celebrated 
sermon the scene of which is laid by Matthew on a mountain, 
and by Luke in a plain (Mt. chs. v.— vii., inclusive; Lu. vi. 20- 
49). A part only of this discourse has been preserved to us, for 
Matthew has evidently collected into one a great number of his 
best sayings, .which were no doubt actually uttered on many dif- 
ferent occasions and in many different places. Luke, with more 
sense of fitness, has scattered them about his Gospel, assigning 
to some an earlier, to others a later date. Notably is this unlike 
arrangement remarkable in the case of the Lord's prayer, and 
in nothing is the untrustworthiness of these Gospels, as to all 
exterior circumstances, more conspicuous than in their assign- 
ing to the communication of this most important prayer totally 
different times, different antecedents, and different surround- 
ings. For whereas Matthew brings it within his all-compre- 



HIS EXPULSION OP DEVILS. 243 

hensive sermon on the mount, Luke causes it to be taught in 
**a certain place" where Jesus was praying. The former makes 
Jesus deliver it spontaneously; the latter in answer to the re- 
quest of a disciple; the former to a vast audience; the latter to 
the disciples alone (Mt. vi. 9-13; Lu. xi. 1-4). 

Discrepancies like these evince the hopelessness of attempt- 
ing to follow with accuracy the footsteps of Christ. We can 
obtain nothing beyond the most general conception of his 
movements, if even that ; and of the order of the several events 
in his life we can have scarcely any notion. Discourses, para- 
bles, conversations, miracles, follow one another now in rapid 
succession. Leaving the consideration of the doctrines taught 
for another place, we will notice here, without aiming at a 
chronological arrangement, the principal scenes of his life ; and, 
beginning with his miracles, we will take before any others 
those in which devils are expelled ; or as we should say, mani- 
acs are restored to sanity. 

A strange miracle of this kind is related of a man in the 
country of the Gadarenes or Gergasenes. Matthew indeed, 
according to a common habit of his, has made him into two 
men, but the other two Evangelists agree that there was but 
one. This man was a raving lunatic, who had defeated every 
effort to confine him hitherto made, and who lived among 
tombs, crying and cutting himself with stones. Seeing Jesus, 
he addressed him as the Son of the Most High God, and ad- 
jured him not to torment him. On being asked his name, he 
said it was Legion, for they were many. Having been ordered 
out by Jesus, he begged for leave to enter into a herd of swine 
which was feeding near at hand; this was granted, and the 
herd ran violently down a steep place into the sea and were all 
drowned, their number being about two thousand (Mk. v. 1-20; 
Mt. viii. 28-34; Lu. viii. 26-39). After this wanton destruction of 
property, it is not surprising that the people "began to pray 
him to depart out of their coasts." Jesus on this occasion cer- 
tainly displayed a singular tenderness towards the devils, and 
very little consideration for the unfortunate owners of the pigs. 
Nor did the Legion gain much by the bargain ; for they lost 
their new habitation the moment they had taken possession 
of it. 



244: JESUS CHRIST. 

The disciples, as we have seen, had received power over 
devils, but it appears from a remarkable story that they were 
not always able to master them. For on returning to them 
after the transfiguration, Jesus found a crowd about them 
engaged in some disputation. Having demanded an explanation, 
a man told him that he had brought his son, who was subject 
to violent fits, probably epileptic (Mark alone makes him deaf 
and dumb), and begged the disciples to cure him, which they 
had been unable to do. Hereupon, Jesus, bursting into an 
angry exclamation against the ** faithless and perverse genera- 
tion" with whom he lived, took the boy and healed him. 
Luke omits the private conversation with the disciples which 
followed on this scene. They asked him, it is said, why they 
had been thus unsuccessful. The answer is different in Mat- 
thew and in Mark. In the former Gospel, he assigns a plrain 
reason: "because of your unbelief;" adding afterwards, *'this 
kind does not come out except by fasting and prayer." In 
Mark, the latter statement constitutes the whole reply, no allu- 
sion being made to the disciples' unbelief. It is noticeable, 
however, that in Mark alone the father is required to believe 
before the boy is healed; a singular condition to exact, since 
belief may generally be expected to follow on a miracle rather 
than to precede it (Mk. ix. 14-29 ; Mt. xvii. 14-21 ; Lu. ix. 37-43). 

In the case of the Syro-phoenician woman, however, there 
was no need to impose it, for her faith, founded on the repute,- 
tion of Jesus was perfect. This woman came to him when he 
had gone ,upon an excursion to the neighborhood of Tyre and 
Sidon, and begged him to cast out a devil from her daughter, 
who was not present. He at first refused on the ground of her 
being a Gentile, but after a remarkable dialogue, confessed 
himself convinced by her arguments, and told her that on her 
return she would find the daughter cured, which actually hap- 
pened (Mk. vii. 24-30; Mt. xv. 21-28). Here we have an instance 
of a remedy effected at a distance, which can scarcely be cred- 
ited at all unless on the supposition that the daughter knew of 
her mother's expedition, and had equal faith in Jesus. The 
probability is, however, that her recovery is an invention, 
though the argument with the woman may possibly be histor- 
ical. 



THE EXPULSION OF DEVILS. 245 

Belief in the production of diseases by demoniacal posses- 
sion, and in the po^yer of exorcism over diseases so produced, is 
the common condition of' mind in barbarous or semi-civilized 
nations. The phenomena which occurred in the first century in 
Judea are reproduced at the present day in more than one 
quarter of the globe. Take, to begin with, the theory of posses- 
sion in Abyssinia, -which I find quoted by Canon Callaway from 
Stern's ** Wanderings among the Falashes." Canon Callaway 
observes that "in Abyssinia we meet with the word Bouda, 
applied to a character morte resembling the Abatakadi or wiz- 
ards of these parts [South Africa]. . . . The Bouda, or an 
evil spirit called by the same name and acting with him, takes 
possession of others, giving rise to an attack known as 'Bouda 
symptoms,' which present the characteristics of intense hysteria, 
bordering on insanity. Together with the Boudas there is, of 
course, the exorcist, who has unusual powers, and, like the 
imjanga yokuhula, or diviner among the Amazulu, points out 
those who are Boudas, that is, Abatakati " (R. S. A., part iii. pp. 
280, 281). Describing the diseases of the Polynesian islanders, 
the missionary Turner says: "Insanity is occasionally met 
with. It was invariably traced in former times to the imme- 
diate presence of an evil spirit " (N. Y., p. 221). Eising some- 
what higher in the scale of culture, the Singhalese, as depicted 
by Knox, present the spectacle of patients whose symptoms 
are an almost exact reproduction of those which afflicted the 
objects of the mercy of Jesus. "I have many times," he 
relates, "seen men and women of this country strangely pos- 
sest, insomuch that I could judge it nothing else but the effect 
of the devil's power upon them, and they themselves do 
acknowledge as much. In the like condition to which I never 
saw any that did profess to be a worshiper of the holy name 
of Jesus. They that are thus possest, some of them will run 
mad into the woods, screeching and roaring, but do mischief to 
none; some will be taken so as to be speechless, shaking and 
quaking, and dancing, and will tread upon the fire and not be 
hurt; they will also talk idle, like distracted folk." The 
author proceeds to say that the friends of these demoniac 
patients appeal to the devil for their cure, believing their 
attacks to proceed from him (H. R. C, p. 77). 



246 JESUS CHRIST. 

The striking successes of Jesus with maladies of this order 
naturally brought him the reputation of ability to deal no less 
powerfully with other diseases. Accordingly, a leper presented 
himself one day, and kneeling to him said that if he wished he 
could make ' him clean. He did so, and the leper, though 
enjoined to keep silence, went about proclaiming the power of 
Jesus, who was consequently besieged by still further throngs 
of applicants and of curious spectators (Mk. i. 40-45; Mt. viii. 
1-4; Lu. V. 12-16). 

Illustrating the manner in which he was pursued, we find a 
curious story. Jesus was in his own house at Capernaum, when 
a paralytic, borne upon a couch, was brought to him to be 
healed. Unable from the concourse about him to penetrate to 
Jesus, his bearers let him down through an opening in the 
roof. After forgiving the man's sins, which he claimed a right 
to do, he told him to take up his bed and walk. This the par- 
alytic at once did, to the amazement of the bystanders (Mk. ii. 
1-12 ; Mt. ix. 1-8 : Lu. v. 18-26). Matthew, telling the same story, 
omits the crowd and the circumstance of letting down the pa- 
tient through the roof; and these adjuncts may be ficiitic ... in 
the special case, but in so far as they bear witness to the thau- 
maturgic repute of Jesus, have in them an element of genuine 
history. 

Of various other miracles of healing with which Jesus is 
credited, one of the most interesting is the alleged resuscitation 
of Jairus' daughter. Jairus was a ruler of the synagogue; a 
personage therefore of some note in his district ; and his daugh- 
ter, a little girl of twelve years old, was dangerously ill, and 
supposed by her friends to be at the point of death. At this 
critical moment Jairus repaired to Jesus, and requested him to 
come and lay his hands on the little maid, that she might live. 
Jesus consented, but before he could reach the house messengers 
arrived who informed Jairus that his child was already dead; 
he need not trouble the master. None the less did Jesus pro- 
ceed to the house, taking with him only the most intimate dis- 
ciples, Peter, James, and John. Here a strange scene awaited 
him. About, and probably in the sick-room had gathered a 
crowd of people, relations, friends, and dependants of Jairus, 
who were engaged in raising a wild clamor of grief around the 



MIRACLES OF HEALING. 247 

child. Flute-piayers were performing on their instruments, 
while their lugubrious music was accompanied by the tumultu- 
ous wailing and howling of the mourners. Jesus, having entered 
the place, declared that the maiden was not dead, but sleeping; 
or as we should say, in a state of insensibility. The people 
laughed in derision at the assertion, but Jesus at once took the 
very proper and sensible measure of turning them all out of the 
room (which was either the sick-room itself or one close to it), 
and taking the damsel's hand, commanded her to rise. She did 
so, and Jesus (again exhibiting excellent sense) ordered that she 
should have something to eat (Mk. v. 21-24, and 35-43; Mt. ix. 
18, 19, and 23-26 ; Lu. viii. 40 42, and 49 56). In this case we have 
a peculiarly valuable instance of the manner in which miracles 
may be manufactured. Analyzed into its elements of fact and 
its elements of inference, we find in it nothing which cannot 
be easily understood without supposing either any exercise of 
supernatural power or any deliberate fraud in the narrators. 
Observe first, that in two out of the three versions the girl is 
reported by Jairus not to be dead, but dying. True, before 
Jesus can get to her it is announced that she is actually dead. 
But Jesus, having reached the house, and having evidently seen 
the patient (though this fact is only suffered to appear in Luke's 
version), expressly contradicts this opinion, declaring that she 
is not dead, but unconscious. On what particular symptom he 
founded this statement we do not know, but we cannot, without 
accusing Jesus of deliberate untruthfulness, believe that he 
made it without reason. At any rate, the measures taken by 
him implied a decided conviction of the accuracy of his obser- 
vation. If she were, as he asserted, not dead, though danger- 
ously ill, the hubbub in the house, if suffered to continue, would 
very likely have rendered her recovery impossible. Quiet was 
essential ; and that having been obtained, it was perfectly pos- 
sible that under the soothing touch and the care of Jesus she 
might awake from her trance far better than before, and to all 
appearance suddenly restored to health. The crisis of her case 
was over, and it may have been by preventing her foolish 
friends from treating that crisis as death, that Jesus in reality 
saved her life. And when she awoke, the order to give her food 
implied a state of debility in which she could be assisted, not 



248 JESUS CHEIST. 

by supernatural, but by very commonplace measures. Observe, 
however, the manner in which in this case the myth has grown 
In two of the Gospels, Mark and Luke, Jairus comes to Jesus, 
not when his daughter is dead, but only when she is supposed 
to be at the last gasp. There is no reason from their accounts 
to believe that she died at all, her friends* opinion on that point 
being contradicted by Jesus. But in Matthew the miracle is 
enhanced by the statement of tke father to Jesus that she was 
just dead (Mt. ix. 18). Consistently with this account the mes- 
sage afterwards sent to him from his house is omitted. Again, 
while it seems from the manner in which Matthew and Mark 
relate what happened, that the words of Jesus, *' The maiden 
is not dead, but sleepeth," preceeded his entry into her room, 
it is clear from Luke that they succeeded it. And this is con- 
sistent with the requirements of the case. Some of the mourn- 
ers and attendants must obviously have been by the bedside, 
and he could not turn them out till he was himself beside it. 
Then clearing the sick-chamber of useless idlers, he could pro- 
ceed in peace to treat the patient; while if we suppose that 
these people were all outside the door, there is far less reason 
for their prompt expulsion. That this is the true explanation 
of the miracle I do not venture to assert; I have only been 
anxious to show, by a single instance, how easily the tale of an 
astounding prodigy might arise out of a few perfectly simple 
circumstances. 

A curious incident took place on the way to the house of 
Jairus. A woman who had had an issue of blood for twelve 
years, came behind Jesus and touched his clothes, whereupon 
she was instantly healed. Jesus, turning round, told her that 
her faith had saved her (Mk. v. 25-34; Mt. ix. 20-22; Lu. viii. 
43-48). Such is the fact as related by the first Evangelist; but 
the other two, magnifying the marvel, place Jesus in the midst 
of a throng of people pressing upon him, and make him super- 
naturally conscious that some one has touched him in such a 
manner as to extract remedial power out of him. Discovered 
by this instinct, the woman tremblingly confesses her deed. 

Neither contact, however, nor even the presence of Jesus ou 
the spot, were essential to a miracle of healing. A centurion, 
having a paralytic servant, either went or sent others to Jesus, 



MIRACLES OF HEALING. 249 

requesting that he would heal him. Before Jesus could reach 
the house, he declared that he was unworthy of receiving him 
within it, but entreated that the word might be spoken, adding 
that his servant would then be healed. This was done; and 
*Jesus took occasion to point the moral by contrasting? the faith 
of this heathen with that of the Jews, dwelling on the superior 
strength of the former (Mt. viii. 5-13 ; Lu. vii. 1-10). This myth 
which appears only in two Gospels, and in them with consider- 
able variations, seems to have been designed to glorify Jcsus by 
making a Roman officer acknowledge his powers. This inten- 
tion is more evident in Luke than in Matthew ; for in Matthew 
the centurion comes himself; but in Luke he sends "the 
elders of the Jews " to prefer his request, their appearance 
evincing his importance, and therefore increasing the honor 
done to Jesus by the suppliant attitude in which he stands. 
When Jesus is near his house the oLlcer still does not approach 
in person, but sends friends, distinctly stating that he thought 
himself unworthy to come himself, and intimating his belief 
that a mere word will be enough to heal his servant, it is 
impossible to see why this message might not have been sent 
in the first instance by the elders, and the cure effected at once, 
but the two embassies to Jesus make a better story. Thus, in 
this version the centurion, who in the other version gives an 
interesting account of. his official status, and receives the high- 
est praise for his faith, never actually sees Jesus at all ; and 
the eulogy is spoken not to him, but of him. Here, then, is 
another example of the way in which tales of this kind grow in 
passing from mouth to mouth. 

Sometimes much more materialistic means of healing were 
adopted, One day, by the sea of Galilee, a deaf and dumb 
man was brought to Jesus. In this case he took the man aside, 
put his fingers into his ears, spat, touched his tongue, looked 
up to heaven, sighed, and said, Ephphatha, or. Be opened (Mk. 
vii. 31-37;. When a word was sufficient, it was singular to go 
through all these performances, and the whole proceeding has 
somewhat the air of a piece of jugglery. At Bethsaida he dealt 
in like manner with a blind man, leading him out of the town, 
spitting upon his eyes, and then putting his hands upon him. 
Asked whether he saw, the man replied that he saw men as 



250 JESUS CHBIST. 

trees walking, whereupon a further application of the hand to his 
eyes caused him to see clearly (Mk. viii. 22-26). Here the remark 
presents itself that if anything of the sort ever occurred, the man 
could not have been born blind, since he would then have been 
unable to distinguish either men or trees by sight. It must 
have been a blindness due to accident or disease of the eyes, 
and might not have been total. But the whole story is prob- 
ably mythical. 

Two more miracles of healing rest on the authority of the 
third Gospel alone. By one of them ten lepers, who had asked 
for mercy, were suddenly cleansed after they had gone away. 
One only of the ten, a Samaritan, turned round to glorify God 
and to utter his gratitude. Jesus then observes: "*Were not 
the ten cleansed? Where are the nine? Were there none 
found that returned to give glory to God, except this stranger?' 
And he said to him, *Arise, go ; thy faith hath saved thee ' '* 
(Lu. xvii. 11-19). Here the intention of exalting the Samaritan 
above the Jews is very evident. 

Another prodigy was worked at the town of Nain, where the 
only son of a widow was just dead, and his body was being 
carried out to the burial-place. Jesus touched the bier, and the 
widow's son rose to life, to the terror of the spectators, who 
declared that a great prophet had been raised up, and that God 
had looked upon his people (Lu. vii. 11-17); 

Though the miracles of Jesus were principally of a remedial 
character, there were others which were rather designed to 
evince his power. Conspicuous among this class is that of feed- 
ing a multitude of five thousand people who had followed him 
into a desert place, and whose hunger he satisfied by the su- 
pernatural multiplication of five loaves and two fishes (Mk. 
vi. 30-45, and viii. 1-9; Mt. xiv. 14-21, and xv. 29-38; Lu. ix. 
10-17; Jo. vi. 1-15). Of this wonder a double version, slightly 
different in details, has been embodied in the first two Gospels. 
It is plainly the same story coming from different sources. 
John, whose miracles are seldom identical with those of the 
synoptics, relates this one nearly in the same way; except that 
according to him it was a lad and not (as in the other Gospels) 
the disciples, who had the food on which the marvel was operated. 
The number of persons is stated in all four Gospels to be five 



MIGHTY WORKS. 251 

thousand (and on the second occasion in the two first Gospels 
four thousand); but Matthew alone has striven to enhance the 
miracle still further by adding to these numbers the words, 
*' besides women and children." 

Immediately after this miracle the disciples entered a boat 
to cross the lake of Galilee, leaving their master on land. A 
storm overtook them at night, and as they were laboring through 
it, they saw Jesus walking towards them on the water. Alarmed 
at such an apparition they cried out in fear; but Jesus reas- 
sured them, and was received into their boat, whereupon the 
wind fell (Mk. vi. 45-52; Mt. xiv. 22-33; Jo. vi. 16-21). To this 
Matthew, unlike Mark and John, adds that Peter also attempted 
the feat of walking on the lake; but being timid, began to 
sink, and had to be rescued by Jesus. John alone adds to the 
first miracle a further one : namely, that immediately upon his 
entrance into the ship, they were at the land whither they went. 

A somewhat similar performance is that ot stilling a violent 
storm on the lake of Galilee, which seems to have astonished 
even the disciples in the boat, accustomed as they must have 
been to prodigies. At least their exclamation, "What sort of 
man then is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him ? " 
looks as if all his influence over devils and diseases had failed 
to convince them of his true character (Mk. iv. 35-41; Mt. viii. 
23-27; Lu. viii. 22-25). 

All doubt upon this score must have been removed in the 
minds of three at least of the disciples by a scene which oc- 
curred in their presence. Peter, James and John accompanied 
him one day to a high mountain, where he was transfigured 
before them; his raiment becoming white and shining. Elijah 
and Moses were seen with him, and Peter, evidently bewildered, 
proposed to make three tabernacles. A voice came from heaven : 
"This is my beloved son: hear him." Suddenly the apparition 
vanished; Jesus alone remained with the disciples, and on the 
way down charged them to tell no one of what they had seen 
till after the resurrection (Mk. ix. 2-13: Mt. xvii. 1-13; Lu. ix. 
28-36). This is a suspicious circumstance, which means, if it 
mean anything, that the transfiguration was never thought of 
till after the death of Jesus, and that this order of his was in- 
vented to account for the otherwise unaccountable silence of 



252 JESUS CHRIST. 

the three disciples. For is it to be imagined that Peter, 
Japaes, and John could keep the secret of this marvelous event, 
which was so well fitted to confirm the faith of believers, and 
to convince the Jews in general of the Messianic nature of the 
prophet? And if they did keep the secret, what weight is to 
be attached to their evidence, given long after the event, and 
when exalted views of the divinity of the Christ who had risen 
from death were already current? 

Such are some of the *' mighty works " for which Jesus 
claimed, and his disciples yielded, the title of "son of man," 
or "son of God," and assumed the authority of the "Messiah" 
whom the Jewish nation expected. But this claim was recog- 
nized neither by the spiritual heads of the Jews, nor by the 
great bulk of the people. Indeed he had given great offense to 
their religious sentiment both by putting forward such preten- 
sions, and by the opinions he had expressed on various topics. 
The language which had caused their hostility, as belonging to 
his historical and not to his mythical personality, will be con- 
sidered elsewhere. But the accounts — semi-mythical, semi-his- 
torical—which have reached us of the closing scenes of his life, 
must be passed under review now. 

Long before his actual arrest, the Gospels tell us that he 
had predicted to his disciples the sufferings that were to befall 
him. Peter, according to one of the versions, had remonstrated 
with him on these forebodings, and had received from him in 
consequence one of the sharpest reprimands he had ever given, 
with the opprobrious epithet of "Satan." It is further stated 
that he prophesied his resurrection, and his return to earth in 
glory with the angels of his Father. To this was added another 
prediction which proved false, that there were some standing 
there who should not taste_of death till the son of man came 
in his kingdom. Gloomy expressions as to the necessity of his 
followers taking up their crosses and being ready to lose their 
lives also escaped him (Mk. viii. 31-ix. 1; Mt. xvi. 21-28; Lu. ix. 
22-27). A little later, he is said to have distinctly given vent to 
similar expectations as to his approaching end, though without 
being able to make himself understood by his disciples (Mk. 
ix. 30-32; Mt. xvii. 22, 23; Lu. ix. 44, 45). Again, on the way to 
Jerusalem where he intended to celebrate the passover, he took 



PREDICTIONS OF DEATH. 253 

all his twelve disciples aside, and distiactly foretold his execu- 
tion there, and his resurrection on the third day (Mk. x. 32-34; 
Mt. XX. 17-19; Lu. xviii. 3r-34). 

Those portions of his prophecies' which related to his death 
at the hands of the Jewish rulers, though not those which re- 
lated to his return in glory, were destined to be soon fulfilled. 
Determined to insist publicly upon his title to the Messianic 
throne, Jesus resolved upon a triumphal entry into Jerusalem. 
Having sent two disciples from the Mount of Olives to fetch a 
colt, hitherto unridden, which he informed them the owners 
would surrender on hearing that the Lord had need of it, he 
mounted this animal and rode into the city amid the shouts 
and acclamations of his supporters. Many are said to have 
spread their garments in his path; others to have cut down 
branches from trees, and strewed them before him. Those that 
went before and behind him kept cheering as he rode, exclaim- 
ing: "Hosanna, blessed is he who cometh in the name of the 
Lord; blessed is the coming kingdom of our father David; 
hosanna in the highest" (Mk. xi. 1-11; Mt. xxi. 1-11: Lu. xix. 
29-39; Jo. xii. 12-16). 

This remarkable scene is described in all the Gospels; but 
while the three first represent Jesus as sending to fetch the 
colt, or the ass and colt, which he in some mysterious manner 
knows that the man will give up, the fourth makes him take 
the .ass and mount it; not as in the other versions before the 
triumphal reception, but after it had begun. So that as to these 
important circumstances the two accounts are entirely at issue; 
that of John being the more natural. That Jesus actually 
entered Jerusalem in this fashion is highly probable, for we 
find in the Gospels themselves a motive assigned which might 
well have led him to select it for his approach to the capital. 
There was a prophecy in Zechariah with which he was no doubt 
familiar : " Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion : shout, O daugh- 
ter of Jerusalem : behold, thy King cometh unto thee, just and 
victorious is he; lowly, and riding upon an ass, and upon a 
foal, the young of asses" (Zech. ix. 9). With the views he held 
as to his Messiahship, Jesus may well have been anxious to 
show that this prophecy was fulfilled in his person. 

On the day after his entry on the ass, on coming from Beth- 



254 JESUS CHBIST. 

any he was hungry, and finding a fig-tree without fruit, he 
cursed it. Mark says that the disciples found it withered the 
next day ; Matthew increasing the marvelous element, that they 
saw it wither ''immediately." Mark also adds that it was not 
the season for figs, which, if correct, would have made it 
absurdly irrational in Jesus to expect them (Mk. xi. 12-14, and 
20-26; Mt. xxi. 18-22). If we accept the more natural supposi- 
tion that it was the season, but that this individual tree was 
barren, then we may easily understand that the absence of 
fruit and the withered condition of the tree were both parts of 
the same set of phenomena, and that the disciples may have 
observed them about the same time. 

Human beings were the next victims of the wrath of Jesus. 
The money-changers and dove-sellers were turned out of the 
temple by him; the fourth Gospel alone mentioning a scourg'e 
of small cords as the weapon employed (Mk. xi. 12-14, Mt. 
xxxi. 12, 13; Lu. xix, 45, 46; Jo. ii. 15-18). A question put 
by the authorities as to his right to act thus was met by a 
counter-question, and finally left unanswered (Mk. xi. 27-33 ; Mt. 
xxi. 23-27; Lu. xx. 1-8.) The chief priests now consulted 
together as to the measures to be taken with a view of bring- 
ing him to trial, but hesitated to do anything on the feast-day 
for fear of popular disturbances. Matthew tells us, what the 
other two do not know, that they assembled at the palace of 
the high priest Caiaphas, and also puts in the mouth of Jesus 
a distinct prophecy that after two days he will be betrayed to be 
crucified (Mk. xiv. 1, 2; Mt. xxvi. 1-5; Luke xxii. 1, 2.) 

A similar foreboding is expressed, according to Matthew, 
Mark, and John, in reference to an incident which is variously 
described by these three Evangelists. Matthew and Mark agree 
in saying, that on this occasion he was taking a repast at the 
house of Simon the leper, when a woman came up to him with 
a box of very precious ointment and poured it on his head. 
Here, according to Mark, "some," according to Matthew^ '*the 
disciples," were indignant at the waste of the ointment, which 
might, they said, have been sold "for much," or "for three 
hundred pence," and the proceeds given to the poor. But 
Jesus warmly took up the woman's cause, for, he remarked, 
" she has wrought a good work on me. For you always have 



THE WOMAN WITH OINTMENT. 255 

the poor with you, but me ye have not always. For in pouring 
this ointment on my body she has done it for my burial.*' 
Mark now how strangely this simple story has been perverted 
in the fourth Gospel to suit the purposes of the writer. The 
date he assigns to it — six daj's before the passover — is nearly 
the same as that given in the second Gospel, where it is placed 
two days before that festival. The place, Bethany, is also 
identical. But the other circumstances are widely different. In 
this Gospel alone is anything known of an intimate friend of 
Jesus, Lazarus by name. In it alone is there any mention of 
one of his most astounding miracles, the restoration of Lazarus 
to life. Consistently with his peculiar notion of the relations of 
Jesus with this man's family he says nothing of Simon the 
leper, but without telling us in whose house Jesus was, men- 
tions that Lazarus was among the guests, and that his sister 
Martha was serving. Further, he asserts that the woman who 
brought the ointment was Mary, the other sister. Instead of 
pouring it on his head, she is made to anoint his feet, and wipe 
them with her hair. Instead of the disciples, or some unknown 
people, being angry at the waste, it is Judas Iscariot in whose 
mouth the obnoxious comment is placed. The sum he names, 
three hundred pence, is the same as that assigned in Mark as 
the value of the ointment. But in order to cover Judas with 
still further obloquy, the Evangelist charges him with a desire 
to obtain this sum, not for the poor, but for himself; he being 
the bearer of the common purse, and being in the habit of dis- 
honestly appropriating some portion of its contents (Mk. xiv. 
3-9; Mt. xxvi. 6-13; Jo. xii. 3-8). Of such an accusation not a 
trace is to be found in the other Gospels, whose writers were 
assuredly not likely to spare the reputation of Judas if it were 
open to attack. Nor does the author of this insinuation offer 
one particle of evidence in its support. 

The steps by which a story grows from an indefinite to a 
definite, from a historical to a mythical form, are admirably 
illustrated in this instance. A tradition is preserved in which, 
while the main event is clear, many of the surrounding circum- 
stances have been suffered to escape from memory. Writer 
after writer takes it up, and finding it thus imperfect, adds lo 
it detail after detail until its whole complexion is altered. 



256 JESUS CHRIST. 

Even the main event may not always be exempted from the 
transfiguring process ; as here, where the feet of Jesus are sub- 
stituted for the head, and the interesting picture introduced of 
Mary wiping them with her hair, and consequently placing her- 
self in a situation of the deepest humility. And if the central 
incident is thus unsafe, still more so are its adjuncts. First, 
the woman is unknown, as are those who murmur against her. 
Then, in the second stage, the woman is still unknown, but the 
murmurers are known generally as the disciples. But no bad 
motive is as yet assigned for their censure. Lastly, in the 
third stage, the woman is known, the murmurer is known 
specifically as one disciple, and a bad motive is assigned for his 
censure. Such is the way in which myths grow up. 

The circumstance we have next to deal with is obscure, not 
because too much has been added, but because something has 
been omitted. Jesus had now drawn upon him the mortal 
hatred of the priests of the temple. He was well aware of his 
danger, as many of his expressions show. He endeavored to 
avoid it by living in concealment in or near Jerusalem. Not 
that we are told of this in so many words, but that the course 
of the story renders, it a necessary assumption. For all the 
Gospels inform us that one of his disciples, Judas named 
Iscariot, went to the chief priests and betrayed him, receiving 
a pecuniary reward for the service thus rendered (Mk. xiv. 10, 
11 ; Mt. xxvi. 14-16 ; Lu. xxii. 3-6 ; Jo. xiii. 2, 27). As to this fact 
there is complete unanimity, and it is borne out by the manner 
of his arrest as subsequently depicted. We cannot then treat it 
as a fiction ; but it is plain that had Jesus been leading the 
open and public life described in the Gospels, there would have 
been no secret to betray, and no reward to be earned. A period, 
more or less long, of retirement to some spot known only to 
friends, must therefore be taken for granted. John alludes to 
something of the sort, though not distinctly, when he relates 
that there was a garden across the brook Cedron, to which he 
often resorted with his disciples, and which was known to 
Judas. But the Christian tradition did not like to acknowledge 
that Christ, whom it represents as braving death, ever lurked 
in hidden places like a criminal, and at the same time it wished 
to brand the memory of Judas with infanay. Hence the sup- 



THE BETRAYAL. 257 

pression of a fact without which the story cannot be under- 
stood. The expressions, "he sought how he might conveniently 
betray him " (Mk. xiv. 11); or "he sought opportunity to betray 
him (Mt. xxvi. 26), plainly point to the same inference. 

There are some differences in the maimer in which the pro- 
ceedings of Judas are related. All the Gospels agree that he 
received money, but Matthew alone knows how much. This 
Evangelist had in his mind a passage in Zechariah, which he 
erroneously attributes to Jeremiah, and which moreover he mis- 
quotes (Mt. xxvii. 9). In the original it runs thus: "And I said 
unto them [the poor of the flock]. If it is good in your eyes, 
give me my hire; and if not, forbear. And they weighed for 
my hire thirty pieces of silver."* Matthew and Mark merely 
state that Judas betrayed his master, giving no reason for his 
conduct. Luke, however, represents it as a consequence of 
Satan having entered into him (Lu. xxii. 3); while John in like 
manner states that the devil put it into his heart, and even 
knows the very moment when Satan entered -into him. (Jo. xlii. 
2, 27). This Evangelist alone places the first steps taken by 
Judas after the last supper, instead of before it, and strangely 
enough so arranges the course of events, that he only acts upon 
the resolution to betray him after a distinct declaration by Jesus 
that he was about to do so. 

Slightly anticipating the course of the narrative, we may 
mention here the singular myth of the unhappy end of the 
traitor Judas ; a myth which is of peculiar interest inasmuch as 
its origin is distinctly traceable to a mistranslation of a verse 
in Zechariah. The passage quoted above continues thus : "And 
Jehovah spoke to me : Throw it to the treasure, the costly 
mantle with which I am honored by them; and I took the 
thirty pieces of silver and threw them into the temple of 
Jehovah to the treasure." But the word here used for the treas- 
ure commonly signifies potter, and was hence interpreted "Throw 
it to the potter." Out of this mistake arose the story that 
Judas, ashamed of his bargain, returned the money to the chief 
priests, who, deeming it unlawful to put it in the treasury, 
bought therewith the "potter's field to bury strangers in." 

♦ Zech. xi. 12, 13. According to Ewald, this portion of Zechariah is by an 
anonymous prophet contemporaneous with Isaiah. 



258 JESUS CHRIST. 

Thus, observes Matthew, *'was fulfilled that which was spoken 
by Jeremy the prophet." Judas, having parted with his ill-got- 
ten gain, committed suicide by hanging (Mt. xxvii. 3-10). So at 
least says Matthew; but Luke, making confusion worse con- 
founded, represents Judas himself as purchasing the field *'with 
the reward of iniquity;" after which he fell headlong, and 
bursting in the middle, his bowels gushed out (Acts i. 18, 19). 
Of this notorious fact, "known," according to the Acts of the 
Apostles, "to all the dwellers at Jerusalem," Matthew at least 
was wholly ignorant. But both versions equally originate in 
the defective Hebrew of the translators of Zechariah. 

In all the synoptical Gospels, the celebration of the pass- 
over by Jesus and his disciples succeeds the secret arrangement 
of Judas with the high priests. He kept it in Jerusalem, in the 
house of a man whose name is not mentioned, but who must 
have been one of his adherents. The encounter with this man 
is represented in two of the three versions as something mirac- 
ulous. On the first day of unleavened bread Jesus told two of 
his disciples (according to Mark), James and John (according to 
Luke), to go into Jerusalem, where they would meet a man 
bearing a pitcher of water. Him they were to follow, and 
wherever he went in, they were to say to the master of the 
house, " Where is the guest-chamber, where I may eat the pass- 
over with my disciples ?" He would then show them a large 
furnished upper room, where they were to prepare it. Nothing 
but a perfectly natural version of all this appears in Matthew. 
There Jesus tells his disciples to go into the city to So-and-so 
(the name therefore having been given), and tell him that he 
wished to keep the passover at his house (Mk. xiv. 12-16; Mt. 
xxvi. 17-19 ; Lu. xxii. 7-13). Here again we see how easily a won- 
drous tale may originate in a very simple fact. 

Supper was accordingly prepared in the man's house, and 
Jesus ate the passover there with his disciples. At this supper, 
according to all the Gospels, he mentioned the fact that one of 
them would betray him. Whether in so doing he actually 
named the traitor is uncertain. Mark's account is that when he 
had predicted that one would betray him, the disciples in sor- 
row inquired one by one, "Is it I?" and that Jesus told them 
it was the one who dipped with him in the dish. Luke leaves 



THE LAST SUPPER. 259 

it still more indefinite. There Jesus merely says, " the hand of 
him that betrays me is with me on the table," and no further 
inquiry is made by any one. Matthew, like Mark, represents 
each disciple as asking whether he was the one, and Jesus as 
giving the same indication about the dish. But he adds that 
Judas himself asked, "Is it I?" and that Jesus answered, 
"Thou hast said.'* Quite different is the account in John. 
There, instead of all the disciples inquiring whether it was he, 
a single disciple, leaning on the breast of Jesus, asks, on a 
sign from Peter, who it was to be. Jesus does not reply that it 
was he who dipped in the dish, but he to whom he should give 
a sop. He then gives the sop to Judas, and tells him to do 
quickly that which he is about to do ; words understood by no 
one present.* The improbability of any of these stories is 
obvious. In the three first, Judas is pointed out to all the 
eleven as a man who is about to give up their master to pun- 
ishment, and probable death, yet no step was taken or even 
suggested by any of them either to impede the false disciple in 
his movements, or to save Jesus by flight and concealment. 
The announcement is taken as quietly as if it were an every- 
day occurrence that was referred to. John's narrative avoids 
this diffiulty by supposing the intimation that Judas was the 
man to be conveyed by a private signal understood only by 
Peter and the disciple next to Jesus. These two may have felt 
it necessary to keep the secret, but why then could they not 
understand the words of Jesus to Judas, or why not at least 
inquire whether they had reference to his treachery, which had 
just before been so plainly intimated? That Jesus, with his 
keen vision, may have divined the proceedings of Judas, is 
quite possible; that he could have spoken of them at the table 
in this open way without exciting more attention, is hardly 
credible. 

It was at this same passover that Christ, conscious of his 
approaching end, blessed the bread and the cup of wine, and 
giving them to his disciples, told them that the one was his 
body, and the other his blood in the new testament, or the new 
testament of his blood (Mk. xiv. 22-25 ; Mt. xxvi. 26-29 ; Lu. xxii. 
14-21 ; I Cor. xi. 23-25). John who was confused about dates in 

♦ Mk. xiv. 17-21 ; Mt. xxvi. 20-25 ; Lu. xxii. 21, 22 ; Jo. xlii. 21-28. 



260 JESUS CHRIST, 

his biography, supposes that this supper tooli place before the 
feast of the passover, instead of at it, and, consistently with 
this view, he says nothing of the institution of the Eucharist, 
which had a peculiar reference to the Jewish feast-day. Instead 
thereof, he introduces another ceremony, of which neither the 
other Evangelists nor Paul say a word; that of washing the 
disciples' feet by Jesus. This was done to make them "clean 
every whit " (though it had no such effect on Judas), and also 
to set them an example of mutual kindness (Jo. xiii. 4-17). 

The passover eaten, Jesus retired with his disciples to the 
Mount of Olives. Being in a prophetic mood, he foretold that 
all his disciples would forsake him in the hour of danger now 
approaching, and that Peter would deny him. This Peter 
resented, though it was destined to be soon fulfilled. After this 
Jesus went to Gethsemane, and taking his three principal disci- 
ples apart from the rest, told them that his soul was sorrowful 
unto death, and begged them to remain and watch while he 
prayed. Going a little forward, he pra3^ed earnestly that the 
coming trial might pass from him, yet with submission to 
God's will. Eeturning, he found his three friends asleep, and 
this happened twice again, these devoted men sleeping calmly 
on until the very moment when the officers of the Sanhedrim 
came to arrest their Lord. Luke adorns 'this scene — which he 
places at the Mount of Olives without mentioning the garden 
of Gethsemane — with ampler details. Mark and Matthew know 
nothing of the exact distance of Jesus from his disciples ; Luke 
knows that it was about a stone's throw. Moreover, all the 
number are present, not only Peter, James, and John. Sweat 
like drops of blood falls from Christ. An angel appears to 
strengthen him. All this is new; as is the representation that 
the disciples were sleeping from sorrow,— a motive which the 
Evangelist no aoubt felt it needful to assign in order to vindi- 
cate their honor. The other two biographers, who content 
themselves with saying that ** Their eyes were heavj^" cer- 
tainly keep more within the limits of probability (Mk. xiv. 32-42; 
Mt. xxvi. 36-46; Lu. xxii. 39-46). 

No sooner was the prayer concluded than Judas, accompa- 
nied by a large posse comitatus armed with swords and staves, 
came from the Jewish authorities. Besistance to the arrest 



THE JEWISH TRIAL. QM 

must have been expected, and not wholly without reason ; for 
as soon as the officers, in obedience to the preconcerted signal 
of a liiss from Juda^, had seized Jesus, one of his party drew a 
sword and cut off the ear of the high priest's servant. This 
incident is related in various ways in all the Gospels. In Mark, 
Jesus addresses no rebuke to the disciple who commits this 
action. In Matthew, he tells him to put up his sword, for all 
who take the sword shall perish by the sword. In Luke, the 
progress to greater definiteness which has been noted as char- 
acterizing these semi-historical myths has begun. In the first 
place, before going to the Mount of Olives, the disciples pro- 
vide themselves with two swords ; and Jesus, on their mention- 
ing the fact, says, **It is enough." Then the writer knows that 
it was the right ear which was cut off. More than this, he 
gives artistic finish to the whole by making Jesus touch the 
I)lace and heal the wound: though whether a new ear grew, or 
the old one was put on again, he does not tell us. More defi- 
nite still is the version in John. This Evangelist, as we saw in 
another case, is fond of supplying names. Thus, he pretends 
to know here that it was Peter who cut off the ear, and that its 
owner was called Malchus. Peter is called to order in his ver- 
sion, but Malchus is not healed. Plainly it was the sense of 
justice of the third Evangelist that made -him shrink from leav- 
ing an innocent dependent in this muiilated condition, when he 
knew that Christ might so easily have restored the missing 
member. 

While in the synoptical Gospels it is Judas who by a kiss 
points out Jesus, in John it is Jesus himself who comes forward 
to declare himself. Hereupon the party deputed by the priests 
go backwards and fall to the ground. They soon recover them- 
selves enough to arrest him. In all the versions he suffers 
himself to be quietly taken, while in all but John he resents, 
with much dignity, the sending of such a force against him, as 
though he had been a thief; while in fact he had often taught 
openly in the temple and had not been stopped. Their master 
once taken, the courage of the disciples was at an end. They all 
fled. Jesus was brought before the Sanhedrim, and evidence, 
of the tenor of which we are not informed, was produced 
against him. Lastly, two witnesses deposed that they ha(| 



262 JESUS CHRIST. 

heard him say, " I am able to destroy this temple, and in three 
days to rebuild it; '' or, "I will destroy this temple made with 
hands, and will build another not made with hands in three 
days.'* Mark endeavors to depreciate these witnesses by saying 
that their evidence did not agree; and he himself is liable to 
the remark that his report of their evidence does not agree with 
that of Matthew, while in neither Gospel does the utterance 
attributed by these men to Jesus tally exactly with that assigned 
to him in John, "Destroy this temple, and in three days I will 
raise it up " (Jo. ii. 19). The agreement, however, is close enough 
to render it probable that some such expression was used, and 
some such evidence given. Neither Luke nor John know any- 
thing of witnesses against Jesus. But Luke, in common with 
the other synoptical Gospels, asserts that he not only admitted, 
but emphatically confirmed the charge— distinctly put to him 
by the high priest — of being the Son of God. On this confes- 
sion he was unanimously found guilty of blasphemy. 

Wholly difrerent is the conduct of the trial in John, whose 
account, moreover, is confused and ill-written in the extreme. 
With his usual proneness to give names, he says that Jesus was 
taken first before Annas, the father in-law of Caiaphas the high 
priest. Annas sent him bound to Caiaphas. The high priest 
(the council is not alluded to) carried on an informal conversa- 
tion with Jesus, inquiring about his doctrine and disciples; 
questions which the latter, on the plea of the publicity of his 
teaching, refused to answer. There is no mention of blasphemy; 
no conviction on any charge; no expression of opinion on the 
part of Caiaphas; though from the fact that he committed the 
prisoner for trial before the Koman court, it may be" inferred 
that he considered him guilty.* 

During the trial by the Sanhedrim, a singular scene was 
passing in the ante-room. There Peter, who alone of the dis- 
ciples had followed his master (for the mention of another is 
peculiar to John), was warming himself among the attendants. 
Questioned by maids and officers of the court whether he had 
not been among the disciples of the accused, he vehemently, 
three several times, repudiated the supposition, though his 

* Mk.'xiv. 43-66; Mt. xxvi. 47-68; Lu. xxii. 47-53, and 63-71; Jo. xviii. 3-14 
and 19-24. 



THE ROMAN TRIAL. 263 

Galilean accent told heavily against him. According to John, 
the question was put on the third occasion by a relative of 
Malchus, who had seen him in the garden. The other Evan- 
gelists are less specific. Now Jesus had foretold that Peter 
would thus deny him, and that his falsehoods would be fol- 
lowed by the crowing of a cock. Immediately after the last 
denial, this signal occurred; and Peter, according to all the 
Gospels but the fourth, went out and wept over his meanness. 
Convicted by the Sanhedrim, the prisoner was now placed at 
the bar of the civil tribunal. The procurator of Judea at this 
time was a man named Pontius Pilatus. His character does 
not stand high. Neander terms him "an image of the corrup- 
tion which then prevailed among distinguished Eomans " (Leben 
Jesu, p. 687). Appointed in the year 23, he was recalled in 37 
on account of the slaughter of some Samaritans in a battle. 
He had insulted the prejudices of the people he governed by 
setting up the standards of the Eoman army within the walls 
of Jerusalem, and had threatened an armed attack upon the 
peaceable Jews who went to Csesarea to remonstrate against 
this novel measure. On another occasion he had taken some of 
the revenues of the temple to construct an aqueduct, and when 
the work was interrupted by the people, had set disguised sol- 
diers upon them, who killed them without mercy. 

Such a man was not likely to be excessively troubled by 
scruples about the execution of an innocent victim. On the 
other hand it is perfectly possible that he might, comparing 
the prisoner with the prosecutors, prefer the former. Having 
no love for the Jewish people, an object of their antipathy 
might become to a certain extent an object of his sympathy. 
But beyond this, it would be absurd to suppose that a man of 
the character of Jesus would inspire him with any sort of re- 
gard, or that he would hesitate to take his life if it suited his 
purpose. The simplest account of the trial bears out this ex- 
pectation. Questioned by Pilate as to the charge preferred 
against him, of claiming to be the king of the Jews, the pris- 
oner answered by an admission of its truth: *'Thou sayest it." 
To other accusations urged against him by the priests he made 

* Mk. xiv. 25-30. and 66-72; Mt. xxvi. 30-36, and 69-76; Lu, xxii. 83, 34, and 
65-62 : Jo. xiii. 37. 38. and xviii. 15-18. and 25-27. 



264 JESUS CHRIST. 

no reply. Pilate wondered at his silence, and endeavored, but 
without success, to extract an answer. While the conduct of 
the accused man must have appeared to him not a little strange, 
Pilate may also have thought that the pretensions to kingship 
of a peaceable fanatic, with !out few and obscure followers, were 
nowise dangerous to the Koman government. It was his cus- 
tom at this festival to release a prisoner, leaving the people, or 
the Jewish authorities, to decide whom. He now proposed to 
release Jesus, but the suggestion was not accepted, and the 
liberation of a well-known political prisoner, who had been 
engaged in an insurrectionary enterprise, was dernanded instead. 
Pilate naturally enough preferred the would-be Messiah to the 
actual rebel. The Jews as naturally preferred the rebel. They 
clamored for the crucifixion of Jesus, and Pilate— afraid per- 
haps that by too much anxiety to save him he would expose 
himself to misrepresentation before Tiberius — gave way to their 
demand. 

So far Mark; and as to the charge against Jesus, and the 
procurator's treatment of it, the other Evangelists are all at 
one with him. But each has adorned the trial with additional 
incidents after his own fashion. Matthew has a ridiculous story 
of an interference with the course of jus' ice by Pilate's wife, 
who on the strength of a dream entreated him to have nothing 
to do with "that just man." Matthew, as we have seen before, 
was a great believer in dreams. Then he is so desirous of 
clearing the character of the Roman, that he describes him as 
washing his hands in token of his innocence before the multi- 
tude, who cry out that the blood of Jesus is to be on them and 
their children. In Luke, there is a new variation. Learning 
that Jesus was a Galilean, Pilate sent him to Herod, who had 
long been anxious to see him, but who could not now induce 
him to answer any of hts questions. Herod, like Pilate, found 
no fault in him, and sent him back after treating him with ridi- 
cule. Pilate's reluctance to convict Jesus is much magnified in 
this Gospel. He insists on Herod's inability, as well as his own, 
to discover any capital offense committed by him, and three sev- 
eral times proposes to the prosecution to chastise him and then 
dismiss him. In John, the conversation of Pilate with Jesus is 
wholly different. In the first place, it takes place alone, or at 



THE CRUCIFIXION. 265 

any rate in the absence of the accusers, for these had refused 
to be defiled by entering the court; and Pilate is represented 
as going out to them to inquire into the charge. This is to 
suit the blunder about dates committed in this Gospel, accord- 
ing to which the last supper was before, and the trial at the 
very time of, the passover. The Jews, therefore, stand without, 
and the prisoner is within. The prisoner does not refuse, as in 
all the other versions, to answer Pilate's questions, but enters 
at some length into his doctrine, explaining the unworldly 
nature of his .kingdom. Pilate places the purple robe and the 
crown of thorns upon him before his condemnation, instead of 
after it, and then tells the Jews that he finds no fault in him. 
Yet after this he desires them to crucify him, although he was 
guiltless. Hereupon the Jews tell him that he had made him- 
self the Son of God. At this, Pilate is frightened, and enters 
into further conversation with Jesus. After hearing him ex- 
pound another theory, he is still very anxious to release him, 
but is forced to yield by an intimation that no friend of Cassar's 
would protect a rival to the throne (Mk. xv. 1-14 ;Mt. xxvii. 1, 
2, and 11-25; Lu. xxiii. 1-23; Jo. xviii. 28-40). Anything more 
utterly improbable than this scene it is difficult to imagine. 
The picture of the Koman governor of Judea going backwards 
and forwards between accusers and accused; listening to the 
theological fancies of the accused ; helpless against the pressure 
of the accusers; alarmed at the pretensions to divinity of a 
young Galilean artisan; are sufficient in themselves to stamp 
this Gospel with the mark of unveracity. 

Sentenced to death, Jesus was now scourged ; a purple robe 
was put upon him,.; nd a crown of thorns about his head (not 
upon it as was afterwards said) : he was saluted in mockery as 
king of the Jews, and smitten with a reed upon the head. After 
this cruel ceremony he was led out to Golgotha to be crucified, 
a man named Simon being compelled to bear his cross (Mk. xv. 
15-21; Mt. xxvii. 26-32; Lu. xxiii. 24-26; Jo. xix. 1-16). Luke is 
singular in the introduction of a large company of women who 
follow Jesus to the crucifixion and draw from him a prophecy 
of terrible evils to come upon them and their children; for 
themselves, and not for him, they were to weep (Lu. xxiii. 
27-31). The other versions say nothing of any friends or follow- 



266 JESUS CHRIST. 

ers, male or female, as being present at this period, though 
they do mention many women as looking on from a distance 
during the crucifixion. These, however, were not daughters of 
Jerusalem (like the women in Luke), but Galilean admirers who 
had followed him to the capital. His mother was certainly not 
among them, or she could not fail to have been mentioned in 
the synoptical Gospels ; whereas the only names we meet with 
are those of Mary Magdalene; Mary, mother of James and 
Joses ; and Salome, apparently the same person as the mother 
of Zebedee's children (Mk. xv. 40, 41 ; Mt. xxvii. 55, 56). 

These were among the spectators of the melancholy end of 
him who had been their teacher and their friend. He was cru- 
cified between two criminals, with an inscription on his cross 
which is differently reported in every Gospel, but of which the 
substance was that he was the king of the Jews. A stupifying 
drink which Matthew (in accordance with a supposed prophecy) 
(Ps. Ixix. 21) calls vinegar and gall, was offered him by the 
executioners ; not as Luke supposes, in mockery, but with the 
humane intention of allaying the pain. His clothes were divided 
among the party of soldiers ; a circumstance in which the Evan- 
gelists as usual endeavor to see the fulfillment of prophecy. 
In Psalm xxii. 18, we read: "They part my garments among 
them, and cast lots upon my vesture." The Synoptics content 
themselves here with stating that the soldiers drew lots for his 
clothing, but John anxious to fulfill this prophecy in the 
most literal manner possible, pretends that they divided 
the articles of his apparel into four parts, but finding the coat 
without seam, agreed not to tear it, but to apportion it by lot, 
Luke is the sole reporter of a saying of Jesus uttered in his 
last moments : *' Father, forgive them, for they know not what 
they do" (Mk. xv. 23-28; Mt. xxvii. 34r-38; Lu. xxiii. 32-34, 36; 
Jo. xix. 17-24). 

The pangs of death must have been greatly embittered to 
Jesus if it be true that not only the priests and passers by, but 
the very criminals who were crucified with him, ridiculed his 
claim to be king of Israel, and suggested that he should prove 
it to demoiistration by saving himself from the cross. All the 
synoptical Gospels agree in this account, with the single excep- 
tion that Luke includes only one of the malefactors among the 



THE CRUCIFIXION. 267 

scorners. According to this Gospel, the other rebuked his fel- 
low-convict for his misbehavior, and addressed to him a few 
moral remarks ; which, however, were perhaps not quite disin- 
terested, for at its close he requested Jesus to remember him 
in his kingdom, and received an ample reward in the shape of 
a promise from the latter that he should be with him that day 
in Paradise. But where was the impenitent criminal to be? 
About his fate there is an ominous obscurity, and it evidently 
did not occur to the writer that the forgiveness which Jesus 
had just been praying his Father to grant his enemies, he 
might himself have extended to this miserable man (Mk. xv. 
29-32; Mt. xxvii. 39-44; Lu. xxiii. 35^3). 

Another incident of the closing hours of Jesus is known to 
the fourth Exangelist alone. According to the others, the 
women who watched him expire were standing far off. But 
according to John, his mother Mary, her sister, and Magdalene 
were all at the foot of the cross. There also was the disciple 
whom Jesus loved, and who in the three other Gospels had run 
away. Before he died, Jesus committed his mother to the care 
of this disciple as to a son, and he afterwars took her home. 
The dogmatic purpose of this story is evident. Mary had not 
been converted by her son during his life-time, and it was 
important to bring her to the foot of the cross at his death, and 
to place her in this close connection with one of his principal 
disciples (Jo. xix. 25-27). 

As to the last words of Jesus, there is an amount of diver- 
gence which shows that no account can be regarded as trust- 
worthy. Mark and Matthew both relate that he called out, 
*'Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani?" an exclamation which he may 
really have uttered, or which, as coming from a prophetic 
Psalm, may have seemed to them appropriate. Hereupon a 
sponge of vinegar was offered him under the impression that 
he was calling Elias, and with a loud cry he gave up the ghost. 
In Luke he cries loudly, and then says, ** Father, into thy 
hands I commend my spirit," With these words (also from one 
of the Psalms) upon his lips, he dies. In John he says, *' I am 
thirsty:" and after receiving some vinegar, adds, "It is fin. 
ished;" and bowing his head, gives up the ghost (Mk. xv. 34- 
37; Mt. xxvii. 46-50; Lu. xxiii. 46; Jo. xix. 28-30). 



268 JESUS CHRIST. 

With the death of Christ, and indeed immediately before it, 
we pass from the region of mixed history and mythology into 
that of pure mythology. With the exception of his burial, all 
that follows has been deliberately invented. The wonders at- 
tendant upon his closing hours belong in part to the typical 
order of myths, and in part to an order peculiar to himself. 
The darkness from the sixth to the ninth hour, the rending of 
the temple veil, the earthquake, the rending of the rocks, are 
altogether like the prodigies attending the decease of other 
great men. The centurion's exclamation, ** Truly this man was 
just," or ''Truly this man was the son of God" (it is differ- 
ently reported), is a myth belonging peculiarly to Christ, and 
designed to exhibit the enforced confession of his greatness by 
an incredulous Eoman. In Matthew, where the more modest 
narratives of Mark and Luke are greatly improved upon by ad- 
ditional details, it is farther added that many bodies of saints 
arose, and after the resurrection appeared to many in Jerusa- 
lem (Mk. XV. 33-39; Mt. xxvii. 45, and 51-54; Lu. xxiii. 44-47)) 

John, who knows nothing whatever of the darkness^ the 
accident to the temple veil, the revival of the saints, or the 
centurion's exclamation, has a myth of his own constructed for 
the especial purpose of fulfilling certain prophecies. The next . 
day being a festival, the Jews, he says, were anxious that the 
bodies should not remain on the crosses. They therefore re- 
quested Pilate to break their legs and remove them. He ordered 
this to be done, and the legs of the two criminals were broken, 
but not those of Jesus, who was already dead; one of the sol- 
diers, however, pierced his side, from which blood and water 
gushed out. The writer adds a strong asseveration of his 
veracity, but immediately betrays himself by letting out that in 
relating the omission to break the legs of Jesus he was com- 
paring him to the Paschal lamb, of whom not a bone was to 
be broken ; while in telling of the soldier- who pierced his side, 
he was thinking of a phrase in Zechariah: ''They shall look 
upon me whom they have pierced" (Zech. xii. 10; Jo. xix. 31-37). 

The burial of the body took place quietly. Joseph of Arima- 
threa, a secret admirer of Jesus, placed it in a new sepulchre 
of his own. With him John associates a character who exists 
only in his Gospel, Nicodemus, and whom he introduces here 



THE RESURRECTION. 269 

as taking some part in the interment. To the circumstance of 
the burial in the rock sepulchre, Matthew adds an audacious 
fiction of his own ; namely, that the chief priests, remembering 
Christ's prediction that he should rise on the third day, obtained 
leave to seal the stone of the tomb and keep it watched, lest 
the disciples should take the body by night and pretend that 
he was risen (Mk. xv. 42^7; Mt. xxvii. 57-66; Lu. xxiii. 50-56; 
Jo. xix. 38^2). 

Certainly if the EvangeMst had meant to convey the impres- 
sion that no human means could prevent the resurrection of 
Christ, he would have been perfectly right. An actual body 
was not necessary for the purpose. For the legends appertain- 
ing to the resurrection belong to a region in which imagina- 
tion, unhampered by the controlling influence of historical fact, 
has been permitted the freest play. Of the appearances of Jesus 
after his death we have accounts by no less than seven differ- 
ent hands, each story beinj? distinct from, though not always 
inconsistent with, the other six. Let us begin with what is 
probably the oldest of all, containing but a germ of the rest; 
the first eight verses of the last chapter of Mark. There we are 
told that on the day after the Sabbath, Mary Magdalene, Mary 
James's mother, and Salome went to the sepulchre at sunrise. 
They found it empty, the stone having been rolled away. A 
young man in white clothes was sitting in it. He.told them that 
Jesus was risen, and desired them to tell the disciples that he 
was going to Galilee, where they would see him. All that fol- 
lows in this Gospel is added by a later hand, and the very first 
verse of the addition is plainly written in total disregard of 
what has just preceded it. Observe then that the simplest form 
of the story of the resurrection contains no mention of any actual 
appearance of Jesus whatever, but merely an assertion that the 
body was not in the tomb, and that a man, sitting inside it, 
made certain statements to three women. To this the forger 
has added that Jesus appeared first to Magdalene, whose ac- 
count, given to the disciples, was disbelieved by them ; secondly, 
to two disciples while walking, whose evidence was also disbe- 
lieved; thirdly, to the eleven at dinner, to whom he addreseed 
a discourse (Mk. xvi). 
The writer of thee first Gospel is much more elaborate. He 



270 JESUS CHRIST. 

was a little embarrassed by the guards whom he had set to 
watch the tomb, whom it was essential to find some convenient 
method of getting out of the way. Like Mark, he takes the 
two Marys (not Salome) to the sepulchre early on the first day 
of the week ; unlike Mark, he does not make them examine the 
tomb and find it deserted. On the contrary, there is an earth- 
quake (the author is rather fond of these natural convulsions), 
and an angel with a face like lightning; clothed in the purest 
white, descends. He rolls back the stone and sits upon it. His 
appearance so terrifies the keepers that they become like 
corpses. The angel tells the women that Jesus is risen, and 
that they are to let the disciples know that he would go before 
them to Galilee, where they would see him. As they are en- 
gaged on this errand, Jesus himself appears and gives them a 
similar injunction. The second appearance occurred before the 
eleven disciples, who saw him at an appointed place in Galilee, 
"but some doubted." Here Jesus addressed to them a parting 
discourse, and this Gospel does not state how or when he quit- 
ted them. The awkward circumstance of the presence of the 
guards, who had certainly not testified to the angel's descent, 
had still to be surmounted. This is accomplished by a ridicu- 
lous story that they had been heavily bribed by the priests and 
elders to say that the disciples had stolen the body while they 
were asleep (Mt. xxviii). 

Unlike either of the preceding writers, Luke conceives the 
first appearance of the risen Christ to have been, not to the 
women, but to two disciples. He does indeed relate that on the 
morning of the first day of the week Magdalene, Mary, Joanna, 
and other women went to the tomb, and found the stone rolled 
away and the body gone. While they were wondering at this, 
two men in shining garments stood by them, and told them 
that he whom they sought was risen. They returned to report 
to the apostles, to whom their words seemed as idle tales. 
Peter, however, ran to the sepulchre to verify their statement, 
and found only the clothes in it. Two of the disciples were 
going that same day to Emmaus. While walking and talking, 
a stranger joined them and entered into a conversation, in 
which he expounded the prophecies relating to the Messiah. 
They requested this man to remain with them for the night at 



THE RESURRECTION. 271 

the house where they were lodging. During supper he took 
bread, blessed it, broke it, and gave it to them ; whereupon they 
recognized him as Jesus, and he vanished from their eyes. On 
returning to Jerusalem, they found the eleven and the rest 
a&eerting that Christ was risen and had appeared to Peter. The 
two wanderers related their experiences in their turn. While 
the disciples were talking, Jesus himself appeared in their 
midst, and said, "Peace unto you." Some skeptical doubts, 
however, troubled them even now, for Jesus thought it neces- 
sary to prove his actual carnality by showing his hands and 
feet, as well as by eating some broiled fish and a piece of honey- 
comb. After this he "opened their understanding," by an ex- 
pository discourse in reference to some of his own sayings and 
to the Scriptures; concluding with an exhortation to remain at 
Jerusalem till they were endowed with power from on high (Lu. 
xxii. 1-49). This last passage is explained by the same author 
in the Acts of the Apostles to refer to the descent of the Holy 
Ghost upon the apostles, which in that work is much more defi- 
nitely promised by Jesus (Acts i. 5, 8). We also find in it an 
important addition to the details furnished by the Gospel about 
the resurrection; namely, that Jesus was seen by his disciples 
for forty days after his physical death, during which time he 
kept speaking to them about matters pertaining to the kingdom 
of God (Acts i. 3). 

Directly contradicting Mark and Matthew, John states that 
Magdalene (no one else is mentioned) went to the sepulchre 
while it was still dark (not at dawn or sunrise), and found the 
stone taken away. Making no further inspection, she ran to 
Peter and to the beloved disciple, saying that' the body had 
been abstracted. The two ran together to the place, and going 
in, found the clothes lying in the tomb, whereupon the beloved 
disciple "saw and believed," though what he believed is not 
stated. Magdalene was standing outside ; but after the two men 
had concluded their examination she entered, and saw what they 
had* not seen — two angels, sitting one at each end of the place 
where the body had been. These angels asked her why she was 
weeping; she answered, because her Lord's body had been 
taken. Turning round, she saw a man whom she at first took 
for the gardener, but whom she soon recognized as Jesus. She 



272 JESUS CHRIST. 

returned and informed the disciples that she had seen him. 
The same day, in tlie evening, Jesus appeared to the disciples, 
said, *' Peace unto you," and showed them his hands and feet. 
He then breathed the Holy Ghost into them, and gave them 
authority to remit or retain sins. Thomas, who was not present 
on this occasion, roundly refused to believe these facts unless 
ho himself could touch the marks of the nails, and put his 
hand into the side. A week later Jesus again appeared, and 
Thomas was now enabled to dispel his doubts by actual exami- 
nation of his person. To these three appearances, with which 
the genuine Gospel closed, a later hand has added a fourth. 
According to this new writer, a number of disciples were about 
to fish on the lake of Tiberias, when Christ was observed stand- 
ing on the shore. The miraculous draught of fishes is intro- 
duced here in a form slightly different from that which it lias 
in Luke. By acting on a direction from Jesus, the disciples 
caught a vast number. He then bade them come and dine with 
him, which they did. After dinner, he instructed Peter to feed 
his flock, and hinted that the beloved disciple might possibly 
live till his return in glory (Jo. xx. xxi). 

Completely different from an^'- of these narratives is the 
account of the resurrection contributed by Paul. It is somewhat 
confused and difficult to understand. Christ, he says, rose on 
the third day according to the Scriptures, and was seen by 
Cephas; then by the twelve; after that by more than five hun- 
dred brethren; after that by James; next by all the apostles; 
and lastly by himself (1 Cor. xv. 3-8). It is to be noted that 
since Paul does not say that Christ appeared first to Cephas, we 
may if we please combine with this account one of those which 
make him appear first to Magdalene, or to her and other 
women. But even then the difficulties do not disappear. For 
how could so notorious an event as the manifestation of Christ 
to five hundred people be passed over suh silentio in all the Gos- 
pels and in the Acts? And granting that Paul may by an over- 
sight have put "the twelve "for '*the eleven," are we not com- 
pelled to suppose that " all the apostles " are distinct from 
"the twelve," and if so, who are they? What, again, are we 
to think of the appearance to James, of which nothing is said 
elsewhere? Above all, what are we to think of the fact that 



THE RESURBEOTION. 273 

the purely spiritual vision granted to Paul, which was not even 
seen by his traveling companions, is placed by him exactly on 
a level with all the other reappearances of Christ, the physical 
reality of which so much trouble has been taken to prove? 

Comparing now the several narratives of the resurrection with 
one another, we find this general result. In Mark, Jesus is 
said to have appeared three times: — 

1. To Mary Magdalene. 

2. To two disciples. 

3. To the disciples at meat. 

Two such appearances only are recorded in Matthew:— 

1. To the women. 

2. To the eleven in Galilee. 

In Luke he appears:— 

1. To Cleopas and his companion. 

2. To Peter. 

3. To the eleven and others. 

In the two last chapters of John the appearances amount to 

four :— 

1. To Mary Magdalene. 

2. To the disciples without Thomas. 

3. To the disciples with Thomas. 

4. To several disciples on the Tiberias lake. 

Paul extends them to six:— 

1. To Peter. 

2. To the twelve. 

3. To more than 500. 

4. To James. 

5. To all the apostles. 

6. To Paul. 

Upon this most momentous question, then, every one of the 
Christian writers is at variance with every other. Nor is this all, 
for two of the number bring the earthly career of Jesus to its 
final close in a manner so extraordinary that we cannot even 
imagine the occurrence of such an event, of necessity so noto- 
rious and so impressive, to have been believed by the other 



274 JESUS CHRIST. 

biographers, and yet to have been passed over by them 'without 
a word of notice or allusion. Can it be for a moment supposed 
that two out of the four Evangelists had heard of the ascension 
of Christ — that the most wonderful termination of a wonderful 
life — and either forgot to mention, or deliberately omitted it? 
And may it not be assumed that Paul, when detailing the 
several occasions on which Christ had been seen after his cruci- 
fixion, must needs, had he known of it, have included this, per- 
haps the most striking of all, in his list ? In fact the ascension 
rests entirely on the evidence of two witnesses, both of them 
comparatively late ones, the forger of the last verses of Mark, 
and the third Evangelist. Neither of them stand as near the 
events described as the true author of Mark, as Matthew, or as 
Paul, from no one of whom do we hear a word of the ascension. 
Nor do even these two witnesses relate their story in the same 
terms. The finisher of Mark merely tells us that after his part- 
ing charge to the eleven, he was received into heaven and sat 
at God's right hand; a statement couched in such general 
terms as even to leave it doubtful whether there was any dis- 
tinct and visible ascension, or whether Jesus was merely taken 
to heaven like any other virtuous man, though enjoying when 
there a higher precedence (Mk. xvi. 19). Especially is this 
doubt fostered by the fact that this Gospel, when speaking of 
the witnesses to Christ's resurrection, never alludes to any of 
the physical proofs of his actual existence so much dwelt upon 
in Luke and the last chapter of John. Very much more definite 
is the statement at the close of the third Gospel. There it is 
related that Jesus led his disciples out to Bethany, where he 
blessed them and that, in * the very act of blessing, he was 
parted from them and carried up into heaven (Lu. xxiv. 50, 51). 
The same author subsequently composed the Acts of the Apos- 
tles, and in the interim he had greatly improved upon his pre- 
vious conception of the ascension. When he came to write the 
Acts, he was able to supply, what he had omitted before, the 
last conversation of the master with the disciples he was about 
to leave; he knows too that after the final words — no blessing 
is mentioned here — he was taken up and received by a cloud ; 
that while the disciples were gazing up, two men in white — 
no doubt the very couple who had been seen at the sepulchre — 



THE ASCENSION. 275 

were perceived standing by them, and that these celestial visi- 
tors told them that Jesus would return from heaven in the 
same way in wliich he had gone to it (Acts i. 9-11). Unhappy 
Galileans ! little could they have dreamt for how many centu- 
ries after that day their successors would watch and wait, 
watching and waiting in vain, for the fulfillment of that consol- 
ing prophecy. 

Casting a retrospective glance at the stories of the Kesurrec- 
tion and the Ascension, we may perhaps discern at least a psy- 
chological explanation of their origin and of the currency they 
obtained. Whatever other qualities Jesus may have p(Jssessed 
or lacked, there can be no question that he had one— that of 
inspiring in others a strong attachment to himself. He had in 
his brief career surrounded himself with devoted disciples ; and 
he was taken from their midst in the full bloom of his powers 
by a violent and early death. Now there are some who have 
been taught by the bitter experience of their lives how difficult, 
nay, how impossible it is to realize in imagination the fact that 
a beloved companion is in truth gone from them forever. More 
especially will this mental difficulty be felt when he whom 
death has parted from our sides is young, vigorous, full of 
promise; when the infinite stillness of eternal rest has succeeded 
almost without a break upon the joyous activity of a well-spent 
life; when the being who is now no more was but a moment 
ago the moving spirit of a household, or the honored teacher 
of a band of friends who were linked together by his 
presence. 

Where the association has been close and constant; where 
we have been accustomed to shara. our thoughts and to impart 
our feelings : where, therefore, we have habitually entwined not 
only our present lives, but our hopes and wishes for the future 
around the personality of the dead, this refusal of the mind to 
comprehend its loss is strongest of all. Emotion enters then 
upon a strange conflict with Reason. Eeason may tell us but 
too distinctly that all hope of the return of the beloved one to 
life is vain and foolish. But Emotion speaks to us in another 
language. Well nigh does it prevent us from believing even 
the ghastly realities which our unhappy eyes have been com- 
pelled to witness. Deep within us there arises the craving for 



276 JESUS CHRIST. 

the presence of our friend, and with it the irrepressible thought 
that he may even yet come back to those who can scarcely bear 
to live without him. Were these inevitable longings not to be 
checked by a clear perception that they originate in our own' 
broken hearts, we should fancy that we saw the figure of the 
departed and heard his voice. In that case a resurrection would 
Lave taken place for us, and for those who believed our tale. 
So far from the reappearance of the well-known form seeming 
to be strange, it is its failure to reappear that is strange to us 
in these times of sorrow. We fondly conceive that in some way 
the dead must still exist; and if so, can one, who was so tender 
before, listen to our cry of pain and refuse to come ? can one, 
who soothed us in the lesser troubles of our lives, look on 
while we are suffering the greatest agony of all and fail to 
comfort? It cannot be. Imagination declines to picture the 
long future of solitude that lies before us. We cannot under- 
stand that we shall never again listen to the tones of the famil- 
iar voice ; never feel the touch of the gentle hand ; never be 
encouraged by the warm embrace that tells us we are loved, or 
find a refuge from miserable thoughts and the vexations of the 
world in the affectionate and ever-open heart. All this is too 
hard for us. We long for a resurrection ; we should believe in 
it if we could ; we do believe in it in sleep, when our feelings 
are free to roam at pleasure, unrestrained by the chilling pres- 
ence of the material world. In dreams the old life is repeated 
again and again. Sometimes the lost one is beside us as of old, 
and we are quite untroubled by the thought of parting. Some- 
times there is a strange and confusing consciousness that the 
great calamity has happened, or has been thought to happen, 
but that now we are again together, and that a new life has 
succeeded upon death. Or the dream takes a less definite form. 
We are united now; bnt along with our happiness in the union 
there is an oppressive sense of some mysterious terror clouding 
our enjoyment. We are afraid that it is an unsubstantial, 
shadowy being that is with us; the least touch may dissipate 
its uncertain- existence ; the slightest illness may extinguish its 
feeble breath. Granting only a strong emotion and a lively 
phantasy, we may comprehend at once how, in many lands, to 
many mourners, the images of theij dreams may also become 



MEA.NING OF THE RESURRECTION. 277 

the visions of their waking hours. They see him again ; they 
know that he is not gone ; he is beside them still. 

Bat for us, who live in a calmer age, and see with scientific 
eyes, there is no such comfort. Not to us can the bodily forms 
of those who have gone before us to the grave appear again 
in all the loveliness of life. In the first shock of our bereave- 
ment we may indeed indulge in some such visionary hope ; but 
as day after day passes by and leaves us in a solitude that does 
but deepen with the lapse of time, we learn to understand only 
too well that we are bereft forever. Hope gradually dwindling 
to a fainter and fainter remnant, is crushed at last by the miser- 
able certainty of profound despair. Yet even then, the mind of 
man refuses to accept its fate. The scene of the reunion, which 
we cannot but so ardently desire, is postponed to another season 
and to a better world. Many are they to whom this final hope 
is an enduring consolation, But if even that should fail us in 
the hour of darkness, as the more primitive and simpler hope 
failed before it; if hero again emotion is reluctantly compelled 
to yield to reason ; then there is still one refuge in despond- 
ency, and a refuge of which we can never be deprived. It is 
the thought that death, so cruel now, will one day visit us with 
a kinder touch; and that the tomb, which already holds the 
nearest and the dearest within its grasp, will open to receive us 
also in our turn to its everlasting peace. 

Subdivision 3.— The Ideal Jesus. 

The Gospel attributed by the current legend to St. John dif- 
fers from the other three Gospels in almost every respect in 
which difference is possible. The events recorded are different. 
The order of events is different. The conversations of Jesus 
are different. His sermons are different. His opinions are dif- 
ferent. The theories of the writer about him are different. 
Were it not for the name and a few leading incidents, we should 
be compelled to say that the subject of the biography himself 
is different. A more conspicuous unlikeness than that of the 
synoptical to the Johannine Jesus it is not easy to conceive in 
two narratives which depict the same hero. In the synoptical 
Gospels Jesus is plain, direct, easy of comprehension, and fond 



27a JESUS CHRIST. 

of illustrating his meaning by short and simple parables. In 
John he is obscure, mystical, symbolic, and of his favorite 
method of teaching by parables there is not a trace. Both de- 
scriptions cannot be true. It would be monstrous to suppose 
either that the synoptical Gospels omitted some of his most ex- 
traordinary miracles and some of his most remarkable dis- 
courses, or that the Gospel of John passed over in silence the 
whole of that side of his character which is portrayed in the 
ethical maxims, the parables, and the exhortations of its pre- 
decessors. Were it so, none of the four could be accepted as 
other than an extremely one-sided and imperfect biography, and 
each of them is plainly regarded by its author as complete 
within itself. None of them refers to extraneous sources to 
supplement its own deficiencies. The concluding verse of the 
fourth Gospel does indeed allude to many unrecorded actions of 
Jesus, which, if they were all written, would fill more books 
than the world could contain. But, not to rely on the fact that 
the last chapter is spurious, these words contain no intimation 
that a mode of teaching completely different from that here 
recorded was ever employed by Jesus. And this is the point in 
which John's narrative is peculiar. Again, to turn to the Synop- 
tics, there is no shadow of an intimation in them that, between 
the last supper and arrest, Jesus addressed to his disciples a 
long and remarkable discourse, full of the most interesting reve- 
lations. Can we suppose that they could have forgotten it, de- 
livered as it was at such a moment as this, the very last before 
their master's condemnation at which he was able to speak to 
them ? Such a supposition is utterly untenable. The two tradi- 
tions embodied in these versions of his life do not therefore, as 
some learned men — Ewald, for example — have supposed, sup- 
plement, but exclude one another. 

Let us enter into detail into some of the peculiar character- 
istics of the Jesus of John. In the first place, we may note 
that his miracles are altogether new. One of them at least is 
so astounding that no biographer who had heard of it could 
have passed it by. The Raising of Lazarus is the greatest feat 
that Jesus ever performed. In other cases he brought persons 
who were supposed to be just dead to life, but skeptical Jews 
might have suspected that they had never in reality died at all. 



THE RAISING OF LAZARUS. 279 

Ample precautions against such cavils were taken in the case 
of Lazarus. This man lived at Bethany, and his sisters, Mary 
and Martha, were devoted admirers of Jesus. These women 
sent word, to Jesus, who had retired "beyond Jordan," to say 
that their brother was ill. He replied that this illness was for 
the glory of God. Afer he had heard of it he remained two 
days in the same place. Then, disregarding the dissuasions of 
the disciples, who reminded him that the Jews had recently 
sought to stone him, he proceeded towards Judea. He informed 
them in that obscure manner which he almost invariably affects 
in this Gospel, that Lazarus was asleep ; but on their misunder- 
standing him, consented to speak plainly and say that he was 
dead. He added that for their sakes he was glad he had not 
been there, in order that they might believe — even the disci- 
ples' faith being apparently still in need of confirmation. On 
reaching Bethany, he found that Lazarus had been buried four 
days. Martha, who came to meet him, observed that had he 
been there, her brother would not have died, and that even now 
whatever he asked of God would be given. Jesus told her that 
her brother would rise again ; a saying which she interpreted 
as referring to the general resurrection; but he replied that 
whoever believed in him would never die, and required of her 
an explicit declaration of her faith in this dogma. Martha 
evaded the inquiry by a profession of her conviction that he 
was the Christ and went to summon Mary. She too remarked 
that if he had been there Lazarus would not have died. Dis- 
tressed by her distress, Jesus himself wept. Going to the grave, 
he ordered the stone which covered it to be removed, in spite 
of Martha's objection that putrefaction had set in. A curious 
scene followed. "Jesus lifted up his eyes and said, 'Father, I 
thank thee that thou hast heard me. And I know that thou 
hearest me always, but because of the people which stand by I 
said it, that they may believe that thou hast sent me.'" We 
must suppose these last words to have been spoken sotto voce, 
for "thB people which stood by" would have been little likely 
to believe in him had they known that the thanksgiving to God 
was a mere pious pretence, offered up for the purpose of im- 
pressing their imaginations by the event that was to follow. 
Knowing that his father always heard him, he certainly had no 



280 JESUS CHRIST. 

occasion to thank him on this one occasion ; if indeed he could 
properly be thanked at all for taking the necessary measures 
to ensure the credit of his own son, in whom he desired man- 
kind to believe, and who is over and over again described as 
one with himself. This is perhaps the only instance in any of 
the Gospels in which something like hypocrisy is ascribed to 
Jesus ; in which he is represented as consciously acting a part 
for the benefit of the bystanders, and speaking simply with a 
view to effect. Happily for his reputation we are not obliged 
to believe in the accuracy of his biographer. After this he. called 
loudly, "Lazarus, come forth." The dead man accordingly 
arose, and came forth from the tomb clad in his grave-clothes 
(Jo. xi. 1-46). His restoration to life was permanent, for we find 
him afterwards among the guests at a supper to which Jeslis 
was invited (Jo. xii. 2). 

Another singular miracle to which there is no allusion in any 
other Gospel is that which is here declared to be the first; the 
conversion of water into wine. Jesus was at a wedding in Cana 
of Galilee, and when the wine provided for the entertainment 
had all been consumed, his mother informed him of the state 
of things. He gave her a repelling answer; but she told the 
servants to do what he bade them. He then ordered six water- 
pots to be filled with water, and the contents to be drawn. It 
was found that they contained wine of a superior quality to 
that at first provided (Jo. ii. 1-11). 

The second miracle according to John is not unlike some of 
those recorded elsewhere. It consisted in the cure by a mere 
word, without visiting the place, of a nobleman's son who was 
on the point of death. This time also Jesus was at Cana, 
though the patient lay at Capernaum (Jo. iii. 46-54). Another 
cure was wrought at the pool of Bethesda, the healing virtues 
of which are known only to this Gospel. A man who had long 
been lying on its steps, too infirm to descend at the proper 
moment, was enjoined to rise and Avalk, which he did (Jo. v. 
1-9). It is singular that although " a great multitude Of impo- 
tent folk" were waiting at the pool, many of whom must 
needs have been kept long, since only one could be cured each 
time the water was troubled, this man alone was selected for the 
object of a miracle. Why were not all of them healed at once ? 



SYMBOLS. 281 

Not only are the most wonderful proofs of Christ's divinity 
contained in this Gospel unknown to the rest, but its dramatis 
personoB are in several respects altogether novel. Nathanael, 
whose difficulties about thinking that any good thing can come 
from Nazar:eth are overcome in a conversation with Jesus (Jo. i. 
4';-51); Nicodemus, the secret adherent who came by night and 
received instruction in the doctrine of regeneration (Jo. iii. 1-21), 
who at a later period supported him against the attacks of the 
Pharisees (Jo. vii. 51), and lastly brought spices to his interment 
(Jo. xix. 39); Lazarus, brother of Mary and Martha, who owed 
him his life (Jo. xi. 44; xii. 2); the woman of Samaria, to whom 
an important prophecy was made, and whose past life he knew 
by intuition (Jo. iv. 1-30) ; are all new personages, and they hold 
no mean place in the story. The immediate attendants on his 
person are no doubt the same; but the representation that 
there was one disciple "whom Jesus loved" above the rest, 
and to whom a greater intimacy was permitted (Jo. xiii. 23), is 
uncountenanced by anything in the other Gospels ; and indicates 
a fixed purpose of exalting the apostle John above his com- 
peers. 

While the scene, the persons, and the plot are thus diverse, 
the style of the principal actor is in striking contrast to that 
which he employs elsewhere. Its most conspicuous char- 
acteristic is the continual recurrence to symbols. It is true 
that in the other Gospels Jesus frequently exchanges the direct 
explanation of his views for the indirect method of illustration. 
But an illustration serves to clear up the meaning of a speaker, 
a syrnbol to disguise it. Illustrations cast light upon the prin- 
cipal thesis ; symbols merely darken it. And this is the differ- 
ence between the synoptical and the Johannine Jesus. The one 
is anxious to be understood; the other, in appearance at least, 
is seeking to perplex. Hence the exchange of the parable for 
the symbol. The number of such symbols in John is consider- 
able. Jesus is continually inventing new ones. Near the 
beginning of the Gospel, he explains to Nicodemus that it is 
needful to be born again; a statement by which Nicodemus 
is considerably perplexed (Jo. iii. 3, 4). But his symbols are 
more generally applied to himself or his relations to the 
Father. He is the bread of life or the bread of God (Jo. vi. 



282 JESUS CHBI3T. 

33-48); again, he is the living water (Jo.), or he gives a water 
which prevents all future thirst (Jo. iv. 14) ; he is the true vine, 
his Father the husbandman, and his disciples the branches (Jo. 
XV. 1-5); elsewhere he is both the good shepherd and the door 
by which the sheep enter the fold (Jo. x. 7-16); he is the way, 
the truth, and the life (Jo. xiv. 6); he is the light that came 
into the world (Jo. xii. 46; iii. 19)); or he is the Eesurrection 
and the Life (Jo. xi. 25). John the Baptist, also, unlike the 
John of the other Gospels, adopts the same manner. Christ is 
spoken of by him as the Lamb of God, which takes away the 
sins of the world (Jo. i. 29) ; or as the Bridegroom whose voice 
he rejoiced to hear, while he himself was but the Bridegroom's 
friend (Jo. iii. 29). Sometimes "the Jews," as they are termed 
in this Gospel, are puzzled by the enigmatical style of Jesus, 
the sense of which they cannot unriddle. Thus, when he tells 
them that if they destroy the temple he will rebuild it in three 
days, they are naturally unable to perceive that he is speaking of 
the temple of his body (Jo. ii. 19-21). They murmured because he 
spoke of himself as the Bread that came down from heaven, nor 
was any explanation offered them beyond a reiteration of the 
same statement (Jo. vi. 41-51). Not only the Jews, but also many 
of his own partisans, were hopelessly perplexed by the statement 
that no one could have life in him who did not eat his flesh 
and drink his blood (Jo. vi. 53, 60), a statement which differs 
materially from that made at the passover (in the other Gos- 
pels), where the bread and wine were actually offered as signs 
of his flesh and blood, and the apostles alone (who were pres- 
ent) were required to receive them. At other times he confused 
them by mysterious intimations that he was going somewhere 
whither they could not come, and that they should seek him 
and be unable to find him (Jo. vii. 33-36; viii. 21, 22). On one 
occasion, his auditors were unable to comprehend his assertion 
that he must be lifted up, and requested him to explain it. 
The only reply was another enigma, namely, that the light was 
with them but a little while, and that they should believe in it 
while they had it (Jo. xii. 32-36). To such language they might 
well have retorted,, that what they had from him was not light, 
but a twilight in which no object could be distinctly seen, and 
which never advanced towards clear daylight. 



THE DOCTRINE OF THE LOGOS. 283 

Closely connected with this tendency to speak in obscure 
images was his predilection for argument with the Jews on 
abstruse theological topics. In the other Gospels he teaches the 
people who surround him, and the subject of his teaching is gen- 
erally the rules of moral conduct; comparatively seldom theol- 
ogy. In John he does not so much teach as dispute, and the 
subject of the dispute is not morals — a field he scarcely ever 
enters — but his personal pretensions. Upon these he carries on 
a continual wrangle, supporting his claims by his peculiar 
views of the divine nature and of his relation to it (Jo. v. 16-47 ; 
vi. 41-59 ; vii. 14-36 ; viii. 12-29 ; ix. 39-41 ; x. 19-37). In the same 
spirit the blind man whom he cures enters into a discussion with 
the Pharisees on the character of him who had restored his sight 
(Jo. ix. 24-34). The Jews are depicted as continually occu- 
pied about this question. Even their own officers receive from 
them a reproof for making a laudatory remark about him (Jo. 
vii. 47, 48), while Nicodemus, who interposes in arrest of judg- 
ment, is sharply asked whether he also is of Galilee (Jo. vii. 
51-52). 

The very best instruction of Jesus is not given, as in the 
other Gospels, to a multitude, but is reserved for a select circle 
of his own followers. It is in the 14th, 15th, and 16th chapters 
that he rises to the sublimest heights of his doctrine, and the 
whole of this remarkable discourse is delivered to the disciples 
after Judas has left the supper-table in order to betray him. 
The substance of his teaching is no less peculiar than its occa- 
sions. The writer conceives of him as holding an altogether 
singular relation to the Father, and that relation he represents 
his Christ as continually expounding and insisting upon as of 
vital moment. The Evangelist himself begins his work by a 
concise statement of his doctrine on this point. The Logos, he 
says, was with God in the beginning ; the Logos was God. All 
things were made by it, and nothing was made without it. In 
it was life, and the life was the light of men. This Light came 
into the world, but the world did not know him. Even his 
own, whoever these may have been, did not receive him. To 
those who did receive him, he gave power to become the sons 
of God; and these were born, not of blood, nor of the will of 
the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God. The Logos was 



284 JESUS CHRIST. 

made flesh, and dwelt among us, and we beheld his glory, as 
of the only-begotten of the Father'CJo. 1. 1-14). 

The language of Christ is duly adjusted to this very specula- 
tive theory. Thus, he scandalizes the Jews by the bold asser- 
tion that he and his Father are one; and adds to their horror 
by further maintaining that he is in the Father, and the Father 
in him (Jo. x. 30, 38). Elsewhere, Philip is required to believe in 
the same truth. In reply to his ignorant request that he may 
be shown the Father, he is told that seeing Jesus is equivalent 
to seeing the Father. Moreover, the Father who dwells in 
Christ performs the works which are apparently done by Christ 
alone (Jo. xiv. 9-11). The disciples, too, are included in this 
mystic unity, for they are in Jesus in the same sense in which 
he is in God (Jo. xiv. 20; xvii. 21, 23). His Father, nevertheless, 
is greater than himself (Jo. xiv. 28). Jesus has been glorified 
with the Father before the world existed, and looks forward to 
a return to that glory. He wishes that those who have been 
given him on earth may be with him to behold the glory which 
God, who loved him before the foundation of the world, has 
given him. That glory he has given them, and they are to be 
one, even as he and his Father are one; he in them, and God 
in him (Jo. xvii. 5, 22-24). 

After these preliminary observations, we need not dwell long 
on the historical incidents of the Gospel, of which there are 
but few. The meeting of Jesus with Andrew and Simon, and 
his reception of Nathanael, related in tha first chapter, have 
already been noticed. It only remains to be said, that Nathan- 
ael was deceived by a prophecy which was not fulfilled ; for at 
the end of the interview, Jesus, referring to his amazement 
that he had been discovered under the fig-tree, which had quite 
put him off his balance, tells him that he shall see greater 
things than these, and especially mentions among them the 
opening of the heavens and the descent of angels upon the Son 
of man. Nathanael never saw anything of the kind (Jo. i. 35-51). 

The conversion of water into wine follows next. A peculiar- 
ly in the notions of this writer is evinced by the assertion that 
his mother and brothers went with him to Capernaum, for his 
family do not accompany him, according to any other state- 
ment, while here his mother not only is with him, but is aware 



THE HISTORY ACCORDING TO JOHN. 285 

that he is able to work a miracle (Jo. ii. 1-12). Jesus, after vis- 
iting Capernaum, proceeded for the passover to Jerusalem, 
where it is said that many believed in him because of his mir- 
acles. His expulsion of the money-changers, however, brought 
him into collision with the authorities of his nation, who asked 
him for a sign ; a question to which he replied by the under- 
taking to rebuild the temple, if destroyed, in three days (Jo. ii. 
13-25). But one of the Jewish rulers, named Nicodemus, was 
disposed to believe in his pretensions. This man came to him 
by night, and heard from him a long theological disquisition 
(Jo. iii. 1-21). Jesus then went into Judea, and remained there 
with his disciples baptizing his converts. John the Baptist is 
made to bear an emphatic testimony to his superiority (Jo. iii. 
22-36). A visit to Samaria is the occasion for an interesting dia- 
logue with a Samaritan woman who had come to draw water at 
a well; and her report leads the inhabitants to come out and 
•see the prophet by whom she had been so much impressed. 

This incident is reproduced with curious fidelity in Buddhist 
story. Ananda, one of Sakyamuni's disciples, met with a Mat- 
angi woman, one of a degraded caste, who was drawing water 
and asked her to give him some of it to drink. Just as the 
Samaritan wondered that Jesus, a Jew, should ask drink of her 
one of a nation with whom the Jews had no dealings, so this 
young Matangi girl warned Ananda of her caste, which ren 
dered it unlawful for her to approach a monk. And as Jesus 
nevertheless continued to converse with the woman, so Ananda 
did not shrink from this outcast damsel. "I do not ask thee 
my sister," he replied, -either thy caste or thy family I only 
ask thee for water, if thou canst give me some." The Buddha 
himself, to whom the Matangi girl afterwards presented herself 
treated her with equal kindness. He contrived to divert the 
profane love she had conceived for 'Ananda into a holy love of 
religion; much as Jesus led the Samaritan from the thought of 
her five husbands, and of him who was not her husband, to the 
conception of the universal Father who was to be worshiped 
in spirit and in truth." And as the disciples - marveled " 
that Jesus should have conversed with this member of a de- 
spised race, so the respectable Brahmins and householders who 
adhered to Buddhism were scandalized to learn that the young 



286 JESUS CHRIST. 

Matangi had been admitted to the order of mendicants (Jo. iv. 
1-42; H. B. I., pp. 205, 206). 

After two days spent at Samaria Jesus went on to Galilee, 
where he healed the ncbleman*s sons (Jo. iv. 43-54). Having 
returned to Jerusalem for another feast, he cured the impotent 
man on the Sabbath, which endangered his life at the hands of 
the indignant Jews, and led him to deliver a long vindication 
(Jo. v). The feeding of the five thousand was followed by an 
attempt to make him king, from which he prudently escaped. 
The disciples took ship to go to Capernaum, and Jesus joined 
them by walking on the water. On the ensuing day he preached 
to the people who followed him, and shocked even some of the 
disciples by the loftiness of the claims he advanced. Many of 
them are said to have left him at this time (Jo. vi). 

A singular proceeding is now mentioned. Urged b^^ his 
brothers, who were still incredulous, to go to Jerusalem for the 
feast of tabernacles, he declined on the ground that his time 
was not yet come. When they were gone he himself went also, 
though secretly (Jo. vii. 1-10). There is no reason assigned for 
this little stratagem, and he soon emerged from his incognito 
and taught openly in the temple. The public mind was much 
divided about his character, some maintaining him to be Christ, 
others contending that Christ could only come from the seed of 
David and the town of Bethlehem. An attempt to arrest him 
failed, owing to the impression he made upon the police (Jo. 
vii. 11-53). A discussion with the Jews was terminated by their 
taking up stones to throw at him, a peril from which he escaped 
apparently by miracle (Jo. viii. 12-59; verses 1-11 are spurious). 
Further offense was given by the restoration of a blind man's 
sight on the Sabbath (Jo. ix). A discourse on his title to author- 
ity provoked divisions, and at the feast of the dedication he 
was plainly asked whether he was the Christ. His answer 
again led to an attempt to stone him, from which he escaped 
to the place beyond Jordan where John had formerly baptized 
(Jo. x). The raising of Lazarus and the anointing by Mary are 
the next events recorded (Jo. xi. 1-xii. 9). The passover followed 
six days after the latter incident, and his preaching at this fes- 
tival was interrupted in a singular manner. Jesus had used the 
words, "Father, glorify thy name!" whereupon a voice was 



WHAT DID THE JEWS THINK OF HIM? 287 

heard from heaven, saying, *'I both have glorified it, and will 
glorify it again." Thereupon Jesus observed that this voice 
came not for his sake, but for that of the bystanders. It seems, 
however, to have produced but little effect upon them, for a few 
verses later we find a complaint that, in spite of his many mir- 
acles, they did not believe on him (Jo. xii. 12-50). The last sup- 
per with the disciples was immediately succeeded by a parting 
discourse of much beauty, conceived in an elevated tone; and 
his last moments of freedom were occupied in a prayer of which 
the pathos has been rarely equaled (Jo, xiii.-xvii). 

The remainder of his career— his trial, execution, and alleged 
resurrection — have been fully treated in another place. 

Subdivision 4. — What did the Jews think of him ? 

Victorious over Jesus Christ at the moment, the Jewish 
nation have, from an early period in Christian history, been 
subject in their turn to his disciples. Their polity — crushed 
under the iron heel of Vespasian, scattered to the winds by 
Hadrian —vanished from existence not long after it had success- 
fully put down the founder of the new faith. Their religion, 
toleratod by the heathen Romans only under humiliating and 
galling conditions, persecuted almost to death by the Christians, 
suffered until modern times an oppression so terrible and so 
cruel, that but for the deep and unshakeable attachment of its 
adherents, it could never have survived its perils. Hence the 
course of events has been such that this unhappy nation has 
never until quite recently enjoyed the freedom necessary to 
present their case in the matter of Jesus the son of Joseph ; 
while the gradual decay of the rancor formerly felt against them, 
at the same time that it gives them liberty, renders it less im- 
portant for them to come forward in what would still be an 
unpopular cause. Thus it happens that one side only in the 
controversy, that of the Christians, has been adequately heard. 
They certainly have not shrunk from the presentation of their 
views. Every epithet that scorn, hatred, or indignation could 
suggest has been heaped upon the generation of Jews who were 
the immediate instigators of the execution of Jesus, while all 
the subsequent miseries of their race have been regarded — by 



288 JESUS CHRIST. 

the party which delighted to inflict them— as exhibitions of the 
divine vengeance against !hat one criminal act. Nor haVe even 
freethinkers shrunk from condemning the Jews as guilty of 
gross and unpardonable persecution, and that towards one who, 
if they do not think him a God, nevertheless appears to them 
singularly free from blame. On the one side, according to the 
prevailing Conception, stands the innocent victim ; on the other 
the bloodthirsty Jewish people. All good is with the one; all 
evil with the other. It is supposed that only their hard-heart- 
edness, their aversion to the pure doctrine of the Kedsemer, 
their determination to shut their eyes to the light and their 
ears to the words of truth, could have led them to the commis- 
sion of so great a crime. 

Whether or not this theory be true, it at least suffers frorji 
the vice of having been adopted without due examination. An 
opinion can rest on no solid basis unless its opposite has been 
duly supported by competent defenders. Now in the present 
instance this has not happened. Owing to the causes mentioned 
above, the Christian view has been practically uncontested, and 
writer after writer has taken it up and repeated it in the unre- 
flecting way in which we all of us repeat assertions about which 
there is no dispute. Yet a very little consideration will show 
that so simple an explanation of the transaction has at least no 
% priori probability in its favor. That ^ whole nation should 
be completely in the wrong, and a few individuals only in the 
right, is a supposition which can be accepted only on the most 
convincing evidence. And in order even to justify our enter- 
taining it for a moment, we must be in possession of a report 
of the circumstances of the case from the advocates of the na- 
tion, as well as from the advocates of the individuals who suf- 
fered by its action. A one-sided statement from the partizans 
of a convicted person can never be sufQcient to enable us to 
pronounce a conclusive verdict against his judges. The most 
ordinary rules of faiiness prohibit this. Yet this is what is 
commonly done. No account whatever of the trial of Jesus has 
reached us from the side of the prosecution. Josephus, who 
might have enlightened us, is silent. On the other hand, the 
side of the defense has furnished us with its own version of 
what passed, and from the imperfect materials thus supplied 



HIS RELATION TO THE JEWS. 289 

we must endeavor to discriminate between the two as best we 
can. To do this justly, we must bear in mind, that even though 
the charges produced against Jesus should not appear to justify 
the indignation of his accusers, it is at least unlikely that that 
indignation was altogether without reasonable cause. And pain- 
ful as it may be to be compelled to think that Jesus was in the 
wrong, it would surely — had not long habit perverted our nat- 
ural sentiments — be quite as painful to believe that a large 
multitude of men, impelled by mere malignity against a virtu- 
ous citizen, had conspired to put him to death on charges which 
were absolutely groundless. The honor of an heroic, and above 
all, of a deeply religious people, Is here at stake. It is no light 
matter to deal in wholesale accusations of judicial murder 
against them. It would surely be a happier solution if it could 
be shown that the individual condemned was not absolutely 
guiltless. But possibly we may be able to elude either alterna- 
tive. Just as, according to the able reasoning of Grote, the up- 
right character of Socrates may be compatible with a sense of 
justice on the part of the Athenians who condemned him to 
death, so it is conceivable that the innocence of Jesus may con- 
sist with the fact that the Jews who caused him to be crucified 
were not altogether without excuse. 

An examination of this question must be conducted with a 
careful regard to the hereditary feelings of orthodox Hebrews 
in matters of religion ; 'with an attrention to the conceptions 
they had formed of holiness, and consequently of blasphemy, 
its negation ; with a desire to do justice if possible to the very 
prejudices that clouded their vision, and to realize the intensity 
of the sentiment that ruled their national life and bound them 
to uphold their law in all its severe integrity. We must 
remember that the Jews were above all things monotheists. 
Ever since, after the captivity, they had put away every rem- 
nant of idolatry, they had clung to the unity and majesty of 
Jebovah with a stern tenacity which no alluring temptations, 
no extremity of suffering, had been able to break. If they were 
now ready to persecute for this faith, they had at least shown 
themselves able — they soon showed themselves able again — to 
bear persecution for its sake. Their law, with its monotheistic 
dogmas and its practical injunctions, was to them supremely holy. 



290 . JESUS CHRIST. 

Any attempt to infringe its precepts, or to question its author- 
ity, excited their utmost horror. To set up any other object 
of worship than that which it recognized, to teach any other 
faith than that which rested on this foundation, was blasphemy 
in their eyes. The happiness, nay, the very existence, of the 
nation was bound up with its strict observance. This may have 
been a delusion, but it was one for which the existing genera- 
tion was not responsible. It had been handed down from their 
ancestors, and had reached them with all the sanctity of ven- 
erable age. If it were a delusion, it was one which the compil- 
ers of the Pentateuch; which Josiah, with his reforming meas- 
ures; which Ezra, with his purifying zeal; which the prophets 
and priests of olden times who had fought and labored for the 
religion of Jevovah, had mainly fostered. They had succeeded 
but too well in impressing upon the mind of the nation the 
profound conviction that, in order to ensure the favor of God, 
they must maintain every iota of the revealed truth they had 
received, and that his anger would surely follow if they suffered 
it to be in the smallest degree corrupted or treated with neglect. 
Nevertheless the utmost efforts of the people to guard the 
purity of the faith had been rewarded hitherto with little but 
misery. Their exemption from troubles did not last long after 
the rebuilding of the temple. A prey now to the Seleucidae, 
now to the Ptolemies, their native land the scene of incessant 
warfare, they enjoyed under the Asmonean kings but a brief 
period of independence and good government. Their polity 
received a rude shock from the capture of Jerusalem by Pom- 
pey ; maintained but a shadow of freedom under the tyranny of 
Herod; and fell at last — some time before the public appear- 
ance of Christ — under the direct administration of the unsym- 
pathetic Eomans. A more intolerable fate could hardly be 
imagined. The Komans had no tenderness for their feelings, no 
commiseration for their scruples, no comprehension of their 
peculiar practices. Hence constant collision between the gov- 
ernors and the governed. It is needless to enter in detail upon 
the miserable struggles between those who were strong in the 
material force and those who were strong in the force of con- 
science. Suffice it to say, that provocation on provocation was in- 
flicted on the Jews, until at length the inevitable rebellion came, 



HIS RELATION TO THE JEWS. 291 

to be terminated by the not less inevitable suppression with its 
attendant cruelties. But in the time of Jesus the crisis had not 
yet come. All things were in a state of the utmost tension. It 
was of the highest importance to the people, and their authorities 
were well aware of it, that there should be nothing done that 
could excite the anger of their rulers. The Komans knew, of 
course, that no loyalty was felt towards them in Palestine. 
And the least indication of resistance was enough to provoke 
them to the severest measures. All that remained of independ- 
ence to the Jews — the freedom to worship in their own way; 
their national unity; their possession of the temple; their very 
lives — depended on their success in conciliating the favor of 
the procurator who happened to be set over them, The asser- 
tion by any one of rights that might appear to clash with those 
of Rome, even the foolish desire of the populace to honor some 
one who did not pretend to them, were fraught with the utmost 
danger. It was necessary for the rulers to prove that they did 
not countenance the least indication of a wish to set up a rival 
power. 

Their task was more difQcult because the people were con- 
tinually looking for some great national hero who should re- 
deem them from their subjection. The conception of the "Mes- 
siah," the Anointed One, the King or High Priest who should 
restore, and much more than restore, the ancient glory of their 
nation, who should lead them to victory over their enemies and 
then reign over them in peace, was ineradicably imbedded in 
their minds. Consequently they were only too ready— especially 
in those days of overstrung nerves and feverish agitation under 
a hateful rule — to welcome any one who held out the chance 
of deliverance. The risk was not imaginary. Prophets and 
Messiahs, if they were not successful, could do nothing but 
harm. Theudas, a leader who did not even claim Messiahship, 
had involved his followers in destruction. Bar-cochab, who at a 
later time was received by many as the Messiah, brought upon 
his countrymen not only enormous slaughter, but even the crown- 
ing misfortune of expulsion from Jerusalem. Now, although the 
high priests and elders no doubt shared the popular expectation 
of a Messiah, they were bound as prudent men to test the pre- 
tensions of those who put themselves forward in that character, 



292 JESUS CHRIST. 

and if they were imperiling the public peace, to put a stop to 
their careers. It was not for them, the appointed guides of the 
people, to be carried away by every breath of popular enthusi- 
asm. They would have been wholly unworthy of their position 
had they permitted floating reports of miracles and marvels, or 
the applauding clamor of admirers, to impose upon their judg- 
ment. Calmly, and after examination of the facts, it was their 
duty to decide. 

Jesus had professed to be the Messiah. So much is undis- 
puted. Could his title be admitted ? Now, in the first place, it 
was the central conception of the Messianic office that its 
holder should exercise temporal power. He was not expected 
to be a teacher of religious doctrines, for this was not what was 
required. The code of theological truth was, so far as the Jews 
were aware, completed. The Kevelation they possessed never 
hinted, from beginning to end, that it was imperfect in an}^ of 
its parts, or that it needed a supplementary Eevelation to fill 
up the void which it contained. Whatever Christians, instructed 
by the gospel, may have thought in subsequent ages, the be- 
lievers in the Hebrew Bible neither had ascertained, nor possi- 
bly could ascertain, that JehoVah intended to send his Son on 
earth to enlighten them on questions appertaining to their 
religious belief. This they thought had long been settled, and 
he who tried either to take anything from it or add anything to 
it was in their eyes an impious criminal. Such persons, they 
knew, had been sternly dealt with in the palmy days of the 
Hebrew state, and the example of their most honored prophets 
and their most pious kings would justify the severest measures 
that could be taken against them. A spiritual reformer, then, 
was not what they needed: a temporal leader was. And this 
they had a perfect right to expect that the Messiah would be. 
The very word itself — the Anointed One, a word commonly ap- 
plied to the king — indicates the possession of the powers of gov- 
ernment. Their prophecies all pointed to this conception of the 
Messiah. Their popular traditions all confirmed it. Their politi- 
cal necessities all encouraged it. The very disciples themselves 
held it like the rest of their nation, for when they met Jesus after 
his resurrection we find them inquiring, "Lord, wilt thou at this 
time restore the kingdom of Israel ? (Acts i. 6.) The conversation 



HIS CLAIM TO BE THE MESSIAH. 293 

may be imaginary, but the state of mind which such a question 
indicates was doubtless real. The author represented them as 
speaking as he knew that they had felt. Now, if ever they, who 
had enjoyed the intimate friendship of Jesus, could still look to 
him as one who would restore to Israel something of her bygone 
grandeur, was it to be expected that the less privileged Jews, 
who had inherited from their forefathers a fixed belief in this 
temporal restoration, should suddenly surrender it at the bid- 
ding of Jesus of Nazareth ? For he at least did not realize the 
prevailing notions of what the Messiah ought to be. For tem- 
poral sovereignty he was clearly unfit, nor does he seem to have 
ever demanded it. There was a danger no doubt that his enthu- 
siastic followers might thrust it upon him, and that, thus urged, 
he might be tempted to accept it. But his general character 
precludes the supposition that he could ever be fit to stand at 
the head of a national movement. The absence, moreover, of 
all political enthusiasm from his teaching proved him not to be 
the Savior for whom they were looking. His asserlions that he 
was the Son of God, though they might provoke sedition and 
endanger the security of his countrymen, could bring them no 
corresponding good. 

Christians have maintained that the Jews were entirely wrong 
in their conception of the Messiah's character, and that Jesus 
by his admirable life brought a higher and more excellent ideal 
than theirs into the world. They admire him for not laying 
claim to temporal dominion, and laud his humility, his meek- 
ness, his submissiveness, the patience with which he bore his 
sufferings, and the whole catalogue of similar viitues. It was, 
according to them, the mere blindness of the Jews that pre- 
vented them from recognizing in him a far greater Messiah than 
they had erroneously expected. Moreover, they tell us that 
another of the mistakes made by this gross nation was the 
expectation of an earthly kingdom in which Christ was to reign, 
whereas it was only a spiritual kingdom which he came to in- 
stitute. But who were to be judges of the character of the 
Messiah if not the Jews to whom he was to come ? The very 
thought of a Messiah was peculiarly their own. It had grown 
up in the course of their national history, and was embodied in 
their national prophecies. They alone were its authorised in- 



294 JESUS CHRIST. 

terpreters ; they alone could say whether it was fulfilled in the 
case of a given individual. It is surely a piece of the most' 
amazing presumption on the part of nations of heathen origin 
to pretend that they are more competent than the Jews them- 
selves to understand the meaning of a Jewish term; a term, 
moreover, which neither had nor could have before the time of 
Jesus any sense at all except that which the Jews themselves 
attached to it. Christians, who derive not only their idea of the 
Messiah's character, but their very knowledge of the word, from 
the case of Jesus alone, undertake to set right the Jews, among 
whom it was a current notion for centuries before he had been 
conceived in his mother's womb! 

Granting, however, that this difficulty might have been sur- 
mounted, supposing that it was a spiritual kingdom which the 
ancient prophets under uncouth images referred to, the question 
still remains whether Jesus in other respects fulfilled the con- 
ditions demanded by Scripture. For this purpose it will be the 
fairest method to confine ourselves to the discussion of those 
prophecies alone which are quoted by the Evangelists, and are 
therefore relied upon by them as proving their case. Where, 
however, they have quoted only a portion of a prophecy, and 
the remainder gives a somewhat different complexion to the 
passage extracted, justice to their opponents requires that we 
should consider the whole. 

Take first the circumstances of Christ's birth. It was ex- 
pected that the Messiah was to be of the family of David, and 
born at Bethlehem Ephrathah. Now, according to two of our 
authorities, he fulfilled both of these conditions. But, without 
at all discussing the point whether their statement is true, it is 
abundantly sufficient for the vindication of the Jews to observe, 
that they neither knew, nor could know, anything at all, either 
of his royal lineage or of his birth at Bethlehem. For he him- 
self never stated either of the two capital facts of which Luke and 
Matthew make so much, nor does it appear that any of his dis- 
ciples alluded to them during his life-time. He was habitually 
spoken about as Jesus of Nazareth. Matthew, in endeavoring 
to account for the name by misquoting a prophecy, bears wit- 
ness to the fact that it expressed the general belief. Luke 
makes 'him speak of Nazareth as his own country. Nowhere 



HIS OLAIM TO BE THE MESSIA.H. 295 

does it appear that he repudiated the implication conveyed by 
his ordinary title. Still less did he ever maintain — what his 
over-busy biographers maintained for him — that he was of the 
seed of David. Quite the reverse. He contends against the 
Pharisees that the Messiah was not to be a descendant of David 
at all. The dialogue as given by Matthew runs thus : *' 'What is 
your opinion about the Christ? whose son is he? ' They say to 
him, 'David's.' He says to them, 'How then does David in the 
spirit call him Lord, saying, The Lord said to my lord, Sit on 
my right hand until I place thine enemies under thy feet ? If 
then David calls him lord, how is he his son?'" (Mt. xxii. 42- 
46). No answer was given by the Pharisees, nor was any ex- 
planation of the paradox ever granted them by Jesus. In the 
absence, then, of any further elucidation we can only put one 
interpretation upon his argument. It was clearly intended to 
show not only that the Messiah need not, but that he could not 
be of the house of David. David in that case would not have 
called him Lord. The Pharisees may have been but little 
impressed by the force of the argument, but of one thing they 
could scarcely entertain a doubt. Jesus wished it to be thought 
that he was the Messiah. He also wished it to be thought that the 
Messiah was not a son of David. He himself therefore was cer- 
tainly not a son of David. But if anything more were needed 
to excuse the ignorance — supposing it such — of the Jewish 
rulers about the birthplace and family of Jesus, we find it even 
super-abundaully in the work of one of his own adherents — 
the fourth Evangelist. Not that this writer is to be taken as 
an authority on the facts, but he is an authority on the views 
that were current, at least in a portion of his own sect, and on 
that which he himself —writing long after the death of Christ 
— had received by tradition. Now, in the beginning of his Gos- 
pel he describes Philip the disciple as going to Nathanael, and 
saying, *' We have found him of whom Moses in the law and of 
whom the prophets wrote, Jesus the son of Joseph from Nasa- 
reth." At this Nathanael skeptically asks, " Can anything good 
come from Nazareth ? " and Philip replies, " Come and see " 
(Jo. i. 45, 46). According to this account, then, the very disci- 
ples of Jesus believed in his Nazarene nativity, as also (by the 
way) in his generation by a human father. Nor is this all the 



296 JESUS CHRIST. 

evidence. Id another chapter an active discussion is represented 
as going on among the Jews as to whether Jesus was the 
Christ or not. Opinions differed. Foremost among the argu- 
ments for the negative, however, was the appeal to the Scriptural 
declaration that the Christ must be of David's seed, and ema- 
nate from the village of Bethlehem (Jo. vii. 42). No answer to 
this was forthcoming from the partizans of Jesus, nor is any 
suggested by the Evangelist. There is but one rational infer- 
ence to be drawn from his silence. He either had not heard, or 
he purposely ignored, the story of Christ's birth at Bethlehem, 
and the genealogies which connected him with David. His 
mind (if he had ever been a Jew) was to no small extent eman- 
cipated from Jewish limitations, and with his highly refined 
views of the Logos, he did not believe in the necessity of these 
material conditions. It was nothing to him that they were not 
fulfilled. More orthodox believers in the prophecies of the Old 
Testament may be pardoned if they could not so lightly put 
them aside. But what shall be said of the conduct of Jesus ? 
If he really were a descendant of David, born at Bethlehem, and 
wrongly taken for a Nazarene, can we acquit him of an inex- 
cusable fraud upon the Jews in not bringing these facts under 
their notice? Assuredly not. If, knowing as he did the weight 
they would have in the public mind, he kept them back ; know- 
ing that they would overcome some of. the gravest objections 
that were taken against his claim, he did not urge them in 
reply ; knowing at the close of his life that he was charged with 
an undue assumption of authority, he did not produce them as 
at least a portion of his credentials,— he played a part which it 
would be difficult to stigmatize as severely as it deserves. He 
believed that his reception by his nation would be an immense 
benefit to themselves, yet he did not speak the word which 
might have helped them to receive him. He thought he had a 
mission from God, yet he failed to use one potent argument in 
favor of the truth of that idea. He saw finally that he was 
condemned to death for supposed impiety, yet he suffered the 
Sanhedrim to incur the guilt of his condemnation without 
employing one of his strongest weapons in his defense. Happily 
we are not obliged to suspect him of this iniquity. The contra- 
dictory stories by which his royal descent and his birth at 



EVIDENCES FROM PROPHECY. 297 

Bethlehem are sought to be established sufficiently betray their 
origin to permit us to believe in the honor and honesty of 
Jesus. 

Another Messianic prophecy \Yhieh he is supposed to have 
fulfilled is that of birth from a virgin, the necessity of which 
was deduced from an expression of Isaiah's. That the writer of 
the fourth Gospel was ignorant of this virgin-birth we have 
already shown, and that the Jewish people in general took him 
to be the son of Joseph is obvious enough from their allusions 
to his father (Mk. vi. 3; Mt. xiii. 55, 56; Lu. iv. 22; Jo. vi. 42). 
Here again he never contradicted the prevalent assumption. 
But even had they known of the miraculous conception, the 
Jews might have denied that the passage from Isaiah bore any 
such construction as that put upon it by Matthew. He renders 
it: "Behold, the virgin shall be with child, and bear a son" 
(Mt. i. 23). But a more proper translation would be: "The 
maiden shall conceive, and bear a son," for the word translated 
virgin by Matthew does not exclude young women who have 
lost their virginity. Nay, it curiously enough happens to be 
used elsewhere of maidens engaged in the very conduct by 
which they would certainly be deprived of it. 

Moreover, the two prophecies quoted by Matthew, which 
were, no doubt, familiar to the Jews, could by no possibility be 
applied by them to a person of the character of Jesus. Even 
the small fragments torn away from their context by the Evan- 
gelist convict him of a misapplicalion. In the first fragment, 
the Virgin's son is called Immanuel, a name which Jesus never 
bore (Mt. i. 23). In the second, he is described as "a ruler, who 
shall govern my people Israel," which Jesus never was (Mt. ii. 
6). But the unlikeness of the predicted person to Jesus is still 
further shown by comparing the circumstances as conceived by 
the prophet with the actual circumstances of the time. Im- 
manuel's birth is to be followed, while he is still too young to 
choose between good and evil, by a terrible desolation of the 
land. Hosts, described as flies ^md bees, are to come from 
Egypt and Assyria, and camp in the valleys, the clefts of the 
rocks, the hedges and meadows. Cultivable land will produce 
only thorns and thistles. Cultivated hills will be surrendered 
to cattle from fear of thorns and thistles (Isa. vii, 14-25). Noth- 



298 JESUS CHRIST. 

ing of all this happened in the time of Jesus. But the proph- 
ecy of Micah is still more inappropriate. The "ruler" who is 
to be born in Bethlehem is to lead Israel to victory over all 
her enemies. He is to deliver his people from the Assyrian. 
The remnant of Jacob is to be among the heathen, like a lion 
among the beasts of the forest, like a young lion among flocks 
of sheep. Its hand is to be lifted up against its adversaries, 
and all its enemies are to be destroyed (Micah v). 

These references to prophecy were certainly not happy. An 
allusion by Matthew to the words, " The people who walk in 
darkness see a great light," is not much more to the purpose, 
for Isaiah in the passage in question proceeds to describe the 
child who is to bring them this happiness as one who shall 
have the government upon his shoulder, who is to be on the 
throne of David, to establish and maintain it by right and jus- 
tice for ever (Mt. iv. 15, 16; Is. ix. 1-7). Another extract from 
Isaiah, beginning, "Behold my servant whom I have chosen," 
and depicting a gentler character, is more appropriate, but is 
too vague to be easily confined to any one individual. 

Jesus himself is reported by one of his biographers to have 
relied on certain words from the pseudo-Isaiah as a confirma- 
tion of his mission. If the account be true, the circumstance 
is of great importance as showing the view he himself took of 
his office, and the means he employed to convince the Jews of 
his right to hold it. Entering the synagogue at Nazareth, he 
received the roll of the prophet Isaiah, and proceeded to read 
from the sixty-first chapter as follows : " The Spirit of the Lord 
Jehovah is upon me, because Jehovah has anointed me to an- 
nounce glad tidings to the poor; he has sent me to bind up the 
broken-hearted; to cry to the captives. Freedom, and to those 
in fetters, Deliverance; to cry out a year of good-will from 
Jehovah." Here Jesus broke off the reading in the middle of 
a verse, and declared that this day this scripture was fulfilled 
(Lu. iv. 16-21). But let us continue our study of the prophetic 
vision a little further. "To cry out a year of good-will from 
Jehovah, and a day of vengeance from our God: to comfort all 
that mourn; to appoint for the mourners of Zion,— to give them 
ornaments for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, a garment of 
praise for a desponding spirit; that they may be called oaks of 



EVIDENCES FROM MIRACLES. 299 

righteousness, a plantation of Jehovah to glorify himself. And 
they will build up the ruins of old times, they will restore the 
desolations of former days; and they will renew desolate cities, 
the ruins of generation upon generation. And strangers shall 
stand and feed your flocks, and the sons of foreigners shall be your 
husbandmen and your vine-dressers. And you shall be called 
'Priests of Jehovah;' * Servants of our God,' shall be said to 
you; the riches of the Gentiles you shall eat, and into their 
splendor you shall enter " (Is. Ixi. 1-6). Had Jesus concluded 
the passage he had begun, he could scarcely have said, "This 
day is the scripture fulfilled in your ears." The contrast be- 
tween the prediction and the fact would have been rather too 
glaring. 

Perhaps the most striking apparent similarity to Jesus is 
found in the man described in such beautiful language by an 
unknown prophet in the fifty-third chapter of Isaiah. But 
these words could hardly be applied to him by the Jews ; in the 
first place, because they would not be construed to refer to him 
until after his crucifixion, seeing that they describe oppression, 
prison, judgment, and execution ; in the second place, because 
there was no reason to believe that he bore their diseases, and 
took their sorrows upon him. And although the familiar words 
— doubly familiar from the glorious music of Handel,— "He was 
a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief," may seem to us, 
who know his end, to describe him perfectly, they could hardly 
describe him to the Jews, who saw him in his daily life. In 
that, at least, there was nothing peculiarly unhappy. 

Failing the prophecies, which were plainly two-edged swords, 
Jesus could appeal to his remarkable miracles. He and his dis- 
ciples evidently thought them demonstrations of a divine com- 
mission. But, in the first place, it is clear that the evidence of 
the most wonderful of these consisted only of the rumors cir- 
culating among ignorant peasants, which the more instructed 
portion of the nation very properly disregarded. Their demand 
for a sign (Mt. xii. 38) proves that they were not satisfied by 
these popular reports, if they had ever heard them. And in the 
second place, those miracles which were better attested were 
not convincing from the fact that others could perform them. 
Jesus, charged with casting out devils by Baal-zebub, the prince 



300 JESUS CHRIST. 

of devils, adroitly retorted on the Pharisees by asking, if that 
were so, by whom their sons cast them out? (Mk. iii. 22; Mt. 
xii. 24-30; Lu. xi. 14-24). But thus he admitted that he was not 
singular in his profession. Miracles, in short, were not regarded 
by the Jews as any proof of Messiahship. Tiieir own prophets 
had performed them. Their own disciples now performed them. 
Others might possibly perform them by diabolic agency. The 
Egyptian magicians had been very clever in their contest with 
Moses, though Moses had beaten them, and had performed far 
more amazing wonders than those of Jesus, in so far as these 
latter were known to the Pharisees. 

Miracles being too common to confer any peculiar title to 
reverence on the thg,umaturgist, there remained the doctrine 
and personal character of Jesus by which to judge him. It 
must be borne in mind that the impression which these might 
make upon his antagonist would depend mainly upon his bear- 
ing in his relations with them. He might preach pure morals 
in Galilee, or present a model of excellence to his own follow- 
ers in Judea ; but this would not entitle him to reception as the 
Messiah, nor would it remove an unfavorable bias created by 
his conduct towards those who had not embraced his principles. 
Let us see, then, what was likely to be the effect on the Phari- 
sees, scribes, and others, of those elements in his opinions 
and his behavior by which they were more immediately affected. 

There existed among the Jews, as there still exists among 
ourselves, an institution which was greatly honored among 
them, as it is still honored, though in a minor degree, among 
ourselves. The institution was that of a day of rest sacred to 
God once in every seven days. This custom they believed to 
have been founded by the very highest authority, and embodied 
by Moses in the ten commandments which he received on Sinai. 
Nothing in the eyes of an orthodox Jew could be holier than 
such an observance, enjoined by his God, founded by the great- 
est legislator of his race, consecrated by long tradition. Now 
the ordinary rules with regard to what was lawful and what 
unlawful on this day were totally disregarded by Jesug. Not 
only did his disciples make a path through a cornfield on the 
Sabbath, but Jesus openly cured diseases, that is, pursued his 
common occupation, on this most sacred festival (Mk. ii. 23 — 



HIS OPINIONS ON THE SABBATH. 301 

iii. 7; Mt. xii. 1-14; Lu. vi. 1-11, xiii. 10-17, xiv. 1-6). When 
these violations of propriety (as they seemed to them) first came 
under the notice of the Pharisees, they merely remonstrated 
with Jesus, and endeavored to induce him to restrain the im- 
piety of his disciples. Not only did he decline to do so, but he 
expressly justified their course by the example of David, and 
by that of the priests, who, according to his mode of reasoning, 
profane the Sabbath in the temple by doing that to which by 
their office they were legally bound. Such an argument could 
scarcely convince the Pharisees, but they must have been 
shocked beyond measure when he proclaimed himself greater 
than the temple, and asserted his lordship even over the Sab- 
bath-day. They then inquired of him— a porfectly legitimate 
question — whether it was lawful to heal on the Sabbath, to 
which he replied that if one of their own sheep had fallen into 
the pit they would pick it out. Confirming his theory by his 
practice, he at once healed a man with a withered hand. It is 
noteworthy that the desire of the Pharisees to inflict punish- 
ment upon Jesus is dated by all three Evangelists from this 
incident; so that the hostility towards him may be certainly 
considered as largely due to his unsabbatarian principles. 

Now in this question it is almost needless for me to say that 
my sympathies are entirely with Jesus. Although I do not 
perceive in his conduct any extensive design against the Sab- 
bath altogether, yet it is much that he should have attempted 
to mitigate its rigor. For that the world owes him its thanks. 
But surely it cannot be difQcult, in this highly Sabbatarian 
country, to understand the horror of the Pharisees at his ap- 
parent levity. Seeing that it is not so very long since the sup- 
posed desecration of the Sunday in these islands subjected the 
offender to be treated as a common criminal; seeing that even 
now a total abstinence from labor on that day is in many oc- 
cupations enforced by law; seeing that a custom almost as 
strong as law forbids indulgence in a vast number of ordinary 
amusements during its course, — we can scarcely be much sur- 
prised that the Sabbatarians of Judea were zealous to preserve 
the sanctity of their weekly rest. The fact that highly consci- 
entious and honorable persons entertain similar sentiments 
about the Sunday is familiar to all. We know that any one 



302 JESUS CHRIST. 

who neglected the usual customs; who, for example, played a 
game at cricket, or danced, or even pursued his commercial 
avocations on Sunday, would be visited by them with perfectly 
genuine reproaches. Yet this was exactly the sort of way in 
which Christ and his disciples shocked the Jews. To make a 
path through a cornfield and pluck the ears was just one of 
those little things which the current morality of the Sabbath 
condemned, much as ours condemns the opening of museums 
or theatrical entertainments. Their piety was scandalized at 
such a glaring contempt of the divine ordinances. Nor was the 
reasoning of Jesus likely to conciliate them. To ask whether 
it was lawful to do good or evil, to save life or to kill on the 
Sabbath-day was nothing to the purpose. The question was 
what was good or evil on that particular day, when things 
otherwise good were by all admitted to be evil. Nor were the 
cures effected by Jesus necessary to save life. All his patients 
might well have waited till evening, when the Sabbath was 
over. One of them, for instance, a woman who had suffered 
from a " spirit of weakness '* eighteen years, being unable to 
hold herself erect, was surely not in such urgent need of at- 
tendance that a few hours more of her disease would have done 
her serious harm. Jesus, with his principles, was of course 
perfectly right to relieve her at once, but it is not to be wondered 
at that the ruler of the synagogue was indignant, and told the 
people that there were six working days; in them therefore 
they should come and be healed, and not on the Sabbath. The 
epithet of "hypocrite,'* applied to him by Jesus, was, to say 
the least, hardly justified (Lu. xiii. 10-17). 

Another habit of Jesus, in itself commendable, excited the 
displeasure of the stricter sects. It was that of eating with pub- 
licans and sinners. This practice, and the fact of his neglecting 
the fasts observed by the Pharisees, gave an impression of gen- 
eral laxity about his conduct, which, however, unjust, was per- 
fectly natural (Mk. ii. 15-22; Mt. ix. 10-17; Lu. v. 29-39). Here 
again I see no reason to attribute bad motives to his opponents 
who merely felt as " ehurch-going " people among ourselves 
would feel about one who stayed away from divine service, and 
as highly decorous people would feel about one who kept what 
they thought low company. 



HIS VIEWS ON DIVORCE. 303 

Eating with unwashed hands was another of the several evi- 
dences of his contempt for the prevalent proprieties of life 
which gave offense. The resentment felt by the Pharisees at 
this practice was the more excusable that Jesus justified it on 
the distinct ground that he had no respect for "the tradition of 
the elders," for which they entertained the utmost reverence. 
This tradition he unsparingly attacked, accusing them of frus- 
trating the commandment of God in order to keep it (Mk. vii. 
1-13; Mt. XV. 1-9). Language like this was not likely to pass 
without leaving a deep-seated wound, especially if it be true (as 
stated by Luke) that one of the occasions on which he employed 
it was when invited to dinner by a Pharisee. Indifferent as the 
washing of hands might be in itself, courtesy towards his host 
required him to abstain from needlees outrage to his feelings. 
And when, in addition to the first offense, he proceeded to 
denounce his host and host's friends as people who made the 
outside of the cup and the platter clean, but were inwardly 
full of ravening and wickedness, there is an apparent rudeness 
which even the truth of his statements could not have excused 
(Lu. xi. 37-39). 

Neither was the manner in which he answered the questions 
addressed to him, as to a teacher claiming to instruct the peo- 
ple, likely to remove the prejudice thus created. The Evange- 
lists who report these questions generally relate that they 
were put with an evil intent: "tempting him," or some such 
expression being used. But whatever may have been the secret 
motives of the questioners, nothing could be more legitimate 
than to interrogate a man who put forward the enormous pre- 
tensions of Jesus, so long as the process was conducted fairly. 
And this, on the side of the Jews, it apparently was. There is 
nowhere perceptible in their inquiries a scheme to entrap him, 
or a desire to entangle him in difficulties by skillful examina- 
tion. On the contrary, the subjects on which he is questioned 
are precisely those on which, as the would-be master of the 
nation, he might most properly be expected to give clear 
answers. And the judgment formed of him by the public would 
naturally depend to a large extent on the mode in which he 
acquitted himself in this impromptu trial. Let us see, then, 
what was the impression he probably produced. 



304 JESUS CHRIST. 

On one occasion the Pharisees came to him, "tempting him/' 
to ascertain his opinion on divorce. Might a man put away his 
wife ? Jesus replied that he might not, and explained the per- 
mission of Moses to give a wife a bill of divorce as a mere con- 
cession to the hardness of their hearts. A divorced man or 
woman who married again was guilty of adultery. Even the 
disciples were staggered at this. If an unhappy man could 
never be released from his wife, it would be better, they thought 
not to marry at all (Mk. x. 1-12; Mt. xix. 1-12). Much more 
must the Pharisees have dissented from this novel doctrine. 
Kightly or wrongly, they reverenced the law of Moses, and they 
could not but profoundly disapprove this assumption of author- 
ity to set it aside and substitute for its precepts an unheard of 
innovation. 

Another question of considerable importance was that relat- 
ing to the tribute. Some of the Pharisees, it seems, after prais- 
ing him for his independence, begged him to give them his 
opinion on a disputed point: Was it lawful or not to pay trib- 
ute to the Emperor? All three biographers are indignant at 
the question. They attribute it as usual to a desire to "catch 
him in his words," or, as another Evangelist puts it, to "entan- 
gle him in his talk." Jesus (they remark) perceived what one 
calls their "wickedness," a second their "hypocrisy," and the 
third their " craftiness." "Why do you tempt me?" he began. 
"Bring me a denarium that I may see it." The coin being 
brought, he asked them, "Whose image and superscription is 
this? "Caesar's." "Then render to Caesar the things that are 
Caesar's, and to God the things that are God's" (Mk. xii. 13-17; 
Mt. xxii. 15-22; Lu. xx. 20-26). One of the Evangelists, report- 
ing this reply, rejoices at the discomfiture of the Pharisees, 
who "could not take hold of his words before the people." 
Doubtless his decision had the merit that it could not be taken 
hold of, but this was only because it decided nothing. Taking 
the words in their simplest sense, they merely assert what 
nobody would deny. No Pharisee would ever have maintained 
that the things of Caesar should be given to God ; and no parti- 
zan of Eome would ever have demanded that the things of 
God should be given to Caesar. But practically it is evident that 
Jesus meant to do more than employ an unmeaning form of 



ON MARRIAGE IN HEAVEN. 305 

words. He meant to assert that the tribute was one of the 
things of Gaesar, and that because the coin in which it was paid 
was stamped with his image. More fallacious reasoning could 
hardly be imagined, and it is not surprising that the Pharisees 
"marveled at him." Nobody doubted that the Emperor pos- 
sessed the material power, and no more than this was proved 
by the fact that coins bearing his effigy wore current in the 
country. The question was not whether he actually ruled Judea, 
but whether it was lawful to acknowledge that rule by paying 
tribute. And what light could it throw on this question to 
show that the money used to pay it was issued from his mint ? 
It must almost be supposed that Jesus fell into the confusion 
of supposing that the denarium with Caesar's image and super- 
scription upon it was in some peculiar sense Caesar's property, 
whereas it belonged as completely to the man who produced it 
at the moment as did the clothes he wore. Had the Koman 
domination come to an end at any moment, the coin of the 
Empire would have retained its intrinsic value, but the Eomans 
could by no possibility have founded a right of exacting tribute 
upon the circumstance of its circulation. Either, therefore, this 
celebrated declaration was a mere verbal juggle, or it rested on 
a transparent fallacy. 

After the Pharisees had been thus disposed of, their inquiries 
were followed up by a puzzle devised by the Sadducees in order 
to throw ridicule on the doctrine of a future state. These sect- 
aries put an imaginary case. Moses had enjoined that if a man 
died leaving a childless widow, his brother should marry her 
for the purpose of keeping up the family. Suppose, said they, 
that the first of seven brothers marries, and dies without issue. 
The second brother then marries her with the like result; then 
the third, and so on through all the seven. In the resurrection 
whose wife will this woman be, for the seven have had her as 
their wife? To this Jesus replies: first, that his questioners 
greatly err, neither knowing the Scriptures nor the power of 
God ; secondly, that when people rise from death they do not 
marry, but are like angels; thirdly, that the resurrection is 
proved by the fact that God had spoken of himself as the God 
of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, and that he is not the God of 
the dead, but of the living (Mk. xii. 18-27; Mt. xxii. 23-33; Lu. 



306 JESUS CHRIST. 

XX. 27-40). Whether the Sadducees were or were not satisfied by 
this answer we are not told, but it is quite certain that their 
modern representatives could not accept it. For the inquirers 
had hit upon one of the real difiBculties attending the doctrine 
of a future life. We are always assured that one of the great 
consolations of this doctrine is the hope it holds out of meeting 
again those whom we have loved on earth, and living with them 
in a kind of communion not wholly unlike that which we have 
enjoyed here. Earthly relationships, it is assumed, will be pro- 
longed into that happier world. There the parent will find 
again the child whom he has lost, and the child will rejoin his 
parent; there the bereaved husband will be restored to his wife, 
and the widow will be comforted by the sight of the companion 
of her wedded years. All this is simple enough. Complications 
inevitably arise, however, when we endeavor to pick up again 
in another life the tangled skein of our relations in this. Not 
only may the feelings with which we look forward to meeting 
former friends be widely different after many years' separation 
from what they were at their death ; but even in marriage there 
may be a preferance for a first or a second husband or wife, 
which may render the thought of meeting the other positively 
unpleasant. And if the sentiments of the other should never- 
theless be those of undiminished love, the question may well 
arise, whose husband is he, or whose wife is she of the two ? 
Are all three to live together? But then, along with the com- 
fort of meeting one whom we love, we have the less agreeable 
prospect of meeting another whom we have ceased to love. Or 
will one of the two wives or two husbands be preferred and the 
other slighted ? If so, the last will suffer and not gain by the 
reunion. Take the present case. Assume that the wife loved 
only her first husband, but that all the seven were attached to 
her. Then we may well ask, whose wife will she be of them? 
Will her affections be divided among the seven, or will they all 
be given to the first? In the former case, she will be compelled 
to live in a society for which she has no desire; in the latter, 
six of her seven husbands will be unable to enjoy the full ben- 
efit of her presence. The question is merely evaded by saying 
that in the resurrection there is neither marriage nor giving in 
marriage, but that men are like angels. Either there is no con- 



HIS HOSTILITY TO THE RULERS. 307 

solation in living again, or there must be some kind of repeti- 
tion of former ties. Still less logical is the argument by which 
Jesus attempts to prove the reality of a future state against 
the Sadducees. In syllogistic form it maybe thus stated: — 

God is not the God of the dead, but of the living. God told 
Moses in the bush that he was the God of Abraham, Isaac, and 
Jacob. Therefore they are not dead, but living (Mk. xii. 18-27; Mt. 
xxii. 23-33; Lu. xx. 27-40). 

What is the evidence of the major premiss ? The moment it 
is questioned it is seen to be invalid. Nothing could be more 
natural than that Moses, or any other Hebrew, should speak of 
his God as the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, meaning 
that those great forefathers of his race had adored and been 
protected by the same Jehovah in their day, but not therefore 
that they were still living. The Sadducees must have been weak 
indeed if such an argument could weigh with them for a mo- 
ment. 

After this a scribe or lawyer drew from Jesus the important 
declaration that in his opinion the two greatest commandments 
were that we should love God with the whole heart, soul, mind, 
and strength ; and our neighbors as ourselves (Mk. xii. 28-34 ; 
Mt. xxii. 34-40; Lu. x. 25-37). How gratuitous the imputations 
of ill-will thrown out against those who interrogate Jesus may 
be, is admirably shown in the present instance. One Gospel 
(the most trustworthy) asserts that the question about the first 
commandment was put by a scribe, who thought that Jesus had 
answered well, and who, moreover, expressed emphatic approval 
of the reply given to himself. Such (according to this account) 
was his sympathy with Jesus, that the latter declared that he 
was not far from the kingdom of God. Mark now the extraor- 
dinary color given to this simple transaction in another Gospel. 
The Pharisees, we are told, saw that the Sadducees had been 
silenced, and therefore drew together. Apparently as a result 
of their consultation (though this is not stated), one of them 
who was a lawyer asked a question, tempting him, namely. 
Which is the great commandment in the law? Diverse, again, 
from both versions is the narrative of a third. In the first 
place, all connection with the preceding questions is broken 



308 JESUS CHRIST. 

off, and without any preliminaries, a lawyer stands up, and, 
tempting him, inquires, "Master, by what conduct shall I inherit 
eternal life ? " To which Jesus replies by a counter-question, 
"What is written in the law?" and then, strange to say, these 
two great commandments are enunciated, not by him, but by 
the unknown lawyer, whose answer receives the commendation 
of Jesus. 

The bias thus evinced by the Evangelists, even in reporting 
the fairest questions, seems to show that Christ did not like his 
opinions to be elicited from him by this method, feeling perhaps 
that it was likely to expose his intellectual weaknesses. In this 
way, and possibly in others, a sentiment of hostility grew up 
between himself and the dominant sects, which, until the closing 
scenes of his career, was far more marked on his side than on 
theirs. Beautiful maxims about loving one's enemies and re- 
turning good for evil did not keep him from reproaching the 
Pharisees on many occasions. Unfortunately, a man's particu- 
lar enemies are just those who scarcely ever appear to him 
worthy of love, and this was evidently the case with Jesus and 
the men upon whom he poured forth his denunciations. Judging 
by his mode of speaking, we should suppose that all religious 
people who did not agree with him were simply hypocrites. 
This is one of the mildest terms by which he can bring himself 
to mention the Pharisees or the scribes. Of the latter, he de- 
clares that they devour widows' houses, and for a pretence make 
long prayers; therefore they would receive the greater damna- 
tion (Mk. xii. 40; Mt. xxiii. 14). The scribes and the Pharisees, 
it is said, bind heavy burdens on others, and refuse to touch 
them themselves (surely an improbable charge). They do all 
their works to be seen of men (their outward behavior then was 
virtuous). One of their grievous sins is that they make their 
phylacteries broad, and enlarge the borders of their garments. 
Worse still : they like the best places at dinner-parties and in 
the synagogues (to which perhaps their position entitled them). 
They have a pleasure in hearing themselves called "Kabbi," a 
crime of which Christ's disciples are especially to beware. Tney 
shut up the kingdom of heaven, neither entering themselves, 
nor allowing others to enter. They compass sea and land to 
make one proselyte, but all this seeming zeal for religion is 



HIS HOSTILITY TO THK RULERS. 309 

worthless : when they have the proselyte, they make him still 
more a child of hell than themselves. They pay tithes regu- 
larly, but omit the weightier virtues; unhappily too common a 
failing with the votaries of all religions. They make the out- 
side of the cup and platter clean, but within they are full of 
extortion and excess. Like whited sepulchres, they look well 
enough outside, but this aspect of righteousness is a mere cloak 
for hypocrisy and wickedness. They honor God with their lips, 
but their heart is far from him.* 

He uses towards them such designations as these : " Scribes 
and Pharisees, hypocrites;" "you blind guides;" ''you fools 
and blind;" "thou blind Pharisee;" "you serpents, you genera- 
tion of vipers." If we may believe that he was the author of 
a parable contained only in Luke, he used a Pharisee as bis 
typical hypocrite, and held up a publican — one of a degraded 
class— as far superior in genuine virtue to this self-righteous 
representative of the hated order (Lu. xviii. 9-14). 

Had the Pharisees been actually guilty of the exceeding 
wickedness which Jesus thought proper to ascribe to them, his 
career would surely have been cut short at a much earlier stage. 
As it was, they seem to have borne with considerable patience 
the extreme license which he permitted himself in his language 
against them. Nay, I venture to say that had he confined him- 
self to language, however strong, he might have escaped the 
fate which actually befell him. And the evidence of this propo- 
sition is to be found in the extreme mildness with which his 
apostles were afterwards treated by the Sanhedrim, even when 
they acted in direct disobedience to its orders (Acts iv. 15-21, 
and V. 27-42). Only Stephen, who courted martyrdom by his 
language, was put to death, and that for the legal offense of 
blasphemy. Ordinary prudence would have saved Jesus. For 
his arrest was closely connected with his expulsion of the 
money-changers from the temple court. Not indeed that he was 
condemned to death on that account, but that this ill-consid- 
ered deed was the immediate incentive of the legal proceedings, 

* Mt. xxiii. 1-33; Mk. vil. 6. I omit the concluding verses in Mt, xxiii., 
as the allusion in verse 35 renders it impossible that Christ could have 
uttered them. Indeed, the whole chapter is suspicious; but as portions of 
it are confirmed by Mark, I conclude that the sentiments at least, if not 
the precise words, are genuine. 



310 JESUS CHRIST. 

which subsequently ended, contrary perhaps to the expectation 
of his prosecutors, in his conviction by the Sanhedrim on a capi- 
tal charge. Let us consider the evidence of this. For the con- 
venience of persons going to pay tribute to the temple, some 
money-changers — probably neither better nor worse than others 
of their trade — sat outside for the purpose of receiving the cur- 
rent Eoman coinage and giving the national money, which 
alone the authorities of the temple received in exchange. Cer- 
tain occasions in life requiring an offering of doves, these too 
were sold in the precincts of the temple, obviously to the ad- 
vantage of the public. Had Jesus disapproved of this practice, 
he might have denounced it in public, and have endeavored to 
persuade the people to give it up. Instead of this, he entered 
the temple, expelled the buyers and sellers (by what means we 
do not know), upset the money-changers* tables and the dove- 
sellers' seats, and permitted no one to carry a vessel through 
the temple. " Is it not written," he exclaimed, *' ' My house 
shall be called a house of prayer for all nations ?' but you 
have made it a den of thieves" (Mk. xi. 15-18; Mt. xxi. 12, 13; 
Lu. xix. 45-48). The action and the words were alike unjustifi- 
able. The extreme care of the Jews to preserve the sanctity of 
their temple is well known from secular history. Nothing that 
they had done or were likely to do could prevent it from remain- 
ing a house of prayer. And even if they had suffered it to bo 
desecrated by commerce, was it, they would ask, for Jesus to 
fall suddenly upon men who were but pursuing a calling which 
custom had sanctioned, and which they had no reason to think 
illegal or irreligious ? Was it for him to stigmatize them all 
indiscriminately as ''thieves"? Plainly not. He had, in their 
opinion, exceeded all bounds of decorum, to say nothing of law, 
in this deed of violence and of passion. Thus, there was noth- 
ing for it now but to restrain the further excesses he might 
be tempted to commit. 

No immediate steps were, however, taken to punish this 
outrage. It is alleged that Jesus escaped because of the repu- 
tation he enjoyed among the people. At any rate, the course 
of the authorities was the mildest they could possibly adopt. 
They contented themselves with asking Jesus by what authority 
he did these things, a question which assuredly they had every 



THE CHARGES AGAINST HIM. 311 

right to put. He answered by another question, promising if 
they answered it, he would answer theirs. Was John's baptism 
from heaven or from men ? Hereupon the Evangelists depict 
the perplexity which they imagine arose among the priests. 
If they said, from heaven, Jesus would proceed to ask why they 
had not received him ; if from men, they would encounter the 
popular impression that he was a prophet. All this, however, 
may be mere speculation; we return within the region of the 
actual knowledge of the Evangelists when we come to their 
answer. ** And they say in answer to Jesus, * We do not know.' 
And Jesus says to them, 'Neither do I tell you by what author- 
ity I do these things.'" (Mk. xi. 27-33; Mt. xxi. 23-27; Lu. xx. 
1-8). Observe in this reply the conduct of Jesus. He had 
promised the priests that if they answered his question he 
would also answer theirs. They did answer his question as 
best they could, and he refused to answer theirs ! Even in 
the English version, where the contrast between him and them 
is disguised by the employment of the same word *'tell" as the 
translation of two very different verbs in the original, the dis- 
tinction between "We cannot tell" and "I do not,'* that is 
*' will not tell " is palpable enough. But it is far more so in 
the original. The priests did not by any means decline to 
answer the question ; they simply said, what may very likely 
have been true, that they did not know whence the baptism of 
John was. In the divided state of public opinion about John, 
nothing could be more natural. They could not reply decidedly 
if their feelings were undecided. Their reply, ** We do not 
know," was then a perfectly proper one. The corresponding 
reply on the part of Jesus would have been, "I do not know 
by what authority I do these things ;" but this of course it was 
impossible to give. The chief priests, scribes and elders had 
more right to ask Jesus to produce his authority for his assault 
than he had to interrogate them about their religious opinions. 
But Jesus, though he had for the moment evaded a difficulty, 
must have been well aware that he was not out of danger. He 
found it necessary to retire to a secret spot, known only to 
friends. Here, however, he was discovered by his opponents, and 
brought before the Sanhedrim to answer to the charges now 
alleged against his character and doctrine. 



312 JESUS CHBIST. 

To some extent these charges are matter of conjecture. The 
Gospels intimate that there was much evidence against him 
which they have not reported. Now it is impossible for us to 
do complete justice to the tribunal which heard the case unless 
we know the nature and number of the offences of which the 
prisoner was accused. One of them, the promise to destroy the 
temple and rebuild it in three days, may have presented itself 
to their minds as an announcement of a serious purpose, espec- 
ially after the recent violence done to the traders. However 
this may be, there was now sufficient evidence before the court 
to require the high priest to call upon ilesus for his reply. He 
might therefore have made his defense if he had thought 
proper. He declined to do so. Again the high priest addressed 
him, solemnly requiring him to say whether he was the Christ, 
the Son of God. Jesus admitted that such was his conviction, 
and declared that they would afterwards see him return in the 
clouds of heaven. Hereupon the high priest rent his clothes, 
and asked what further evidence could be needed. All had 
heard his blasphemy; what did they think of it .^ All of 
them concurred in condemning him to death (Mk. xv. 53-64; 
Mt. xxvi. 57-63; Lu. xxii. 66-71). 

The three Evangelists who report the trial all agree that the 
blasphemy thus uttered was accepted at once as full and suffi- 
cient ground for the conviction of Jesus. Now, I see no reason 
whatever to doubt that the priests who were thus scandalized 
by his declaration were perfectly sincere in the horror they 
professed. All who have at all realized the extremely strong 
feelings of the Jews on the subject of Monotheism, will easily 
understand that anything which in the least impugned it would 
be regarded by them with the utmost aversion. And a man 
who claimed to be the Son of God certainly detracted somewhat 
from the sole and exclusive adoration which they considered to 
be due to Jehovah. As indeed the event has proved; for the 
Christian Church soon departed from pure Monotheism, adopt- 
ing the dogma of the Trinity; while Christ along with his 
Father, and even more than his Father, became an object of 
its worship. So that if the Jews considered it their supreme 
obligation to preserve the purity of their Jehovistic faith, as 
their Scriptures taught them to believe it was, they were right 



THE CHARGES AGAINST HIM. 313 

in putting down Jesus by forcible means. No doubt they wer© 
wrong in holding such an opinion. It was not, in fact, their 
duty to guard their faith by persecution. They would have 
been morally better had they understood the modern doctrine 
of religious liberty, unknown as it was to Christians themselves 
until some sixteen centuries after the death of Christ. But for 
theii- mistaken notions on this head they were only in part 
responsible. They had inherited their creed with its profound 
intolerance. Their history, their legislators, their prophets, all 
conspired to uphold persecution for the maintenance of relig- 
ious truth. They could not believe in their sacred books, and 
disbelieve the propriety of persecution. Before they could leave 
Jesus at large to teach his subversive doctrines, they must have 
ceased to be Jews ; and this it was impossible for them to do. 
We must not be too hard upon men whose only crime was that 
the:^ believed in a false religion. 

According to the dictates of that religion, Jesus ought to 
have been stoned. But the Koman supremacy precluded the 
Jews from giving effect to their own laws. Jesus was therefore 
taken before the procurator, and ^accused of '*many things." 
The charge of blasphemy of course would weigh nothing in the 
mind of a Koman ; and it is evident that another aspect of the 
indictment was brought prominently before Pilate : namely, the 
pretension of Jesus to be king of the Jews. As to the substan- 
tial truth of this second charge, we are saved the necessity of 
discussion, for Jesus himself, when questioned by Pilate, at 
once admitted it. But whether it was made in malice, and iti 
a somewhat different sense from that in which Pilate understood 
it, is not so clear. Jesus at no time, so far as we know, put 
forward any direct claim to immediate temporal dominion. At 
the same time it must be remembered that the ideas of Mes- 
siahship and possession of the kingdom were so intimately con- 
nected in the minds of the Jews, that they were probably una- 
ble to dissociate them. Unfit as Jesus plainly was for the exer- 
cise of the government, they might well believe that, if received 
by any considerable number of the people, it would be forced 
upon him as the logical result of his career. Nor were these 
fears unreason:ible. His entry into Jerusalem riding on an ass 
(an animal expressly selected as emblematic of his royalty), 



314 JESUS CHBIST. 

with palm-branches strewed before him, and admirers calling 
*'Hosanna!" as he went, pointed to a very real and serious 
danger. Another such demonstration might with the utmost 
ease have passed into a disturbance of the peace, not to say a 
tumult, which the Eomans would have quenched in blood un- 
sparingly and indiscriminatingly shed. Jesus was really there- 
fore a dangerous character, not so much to the Romans, as to 
the Jews. Not being prepared to accept him as their king in 
fact, they were almost compelled in self-preservation to denounce 
him as their would-be king to Pilate. 

His execution followed. His supposed resurrection, and the 
renewed propagation of his faith, followed that. It has been 
widely believed that because Christianity was not put down by 
the death of its founder, because, indeed, it burst out again in 
renewed vigor, therefore the measures taken against him were 
a complete failure, and served only to confer additional glory 
and power on the religion he had taught. But this opinion 
arises from a confusion of ideas. If they aimed at preserving 
their own nation from what they deemed an impious heresy — 
and I see no proof, that they aimed at anything else — the Jew- 
ish authorities were perfectly successful. Christianity, which, if 
our accounts be true, threatened to seduce large numbers of 
people from their allegiance to the orthodox creed, was practi- 
cally extinguished among the Jews themselves by the death of 
Christ. They could not possibly believe in a crucified Messiah. 
Only a very small band of discii:)les persisted in adhering to 
Jesus, justifying their continued faith by asserting that he had 
risen from the tomb. But it was no longer among the country- 
men of Jesus, whom he had especially sought to attach to his 
person and his doctrine, that this small remnant of his follow- 
ers could find their converts. Neither then, nor at any subse- 
quent time, has Christianity been able to wean the Jews from 
their ancient faith. The number of those who, from that time 
to this, have abandoned it in favor of the more recent religion 
has been singularly small. If, as is probable, there was during 
the earthly career of Jesus a growing danger that his teaching 
might lead to the formation of a sect to which many minds 
would be attracted, that danger was completely averted. 

True, Christianity, when rejected by the Jews, made rapid 



JUSTICE OF HIS DEATH. 315 

progress among the Gentiles. But it was no business of the 
authorities at Jerusalem to look after the religion of heathen 
nations. They might have thought, had they foreseen the 
future of Christianity, that a creed which originated among 
themselves, and had in it a large admixture of Hebrew ele- 
ments, was better than the worship of the pagan deities. Be 
this as it may, the particular form of error which the Gentiles 
might embrace was evidently no concern of theirs. But they 
had a duty, or thought they had oue, towards their own people, 
who looked to them for guidance, and that was to preserve the 
religion that had been handed down from their forefathers un- 
corrupted and unmixed. This they endeavored to do by stifling 
the new-born heresy of Jesus before it had become too powerful 
to be stifled, Their measures, having regard to the end they 
had in view, were undoubtedly politic, and even just. 

For were they not perfectly right in supposing that faith in 
Christ was dangerous to faith in Moses ? The event has proved 
it beyond possibility of question. Not indeed that they could 
perceive the extent of the peril, for neither Jesus nor any of 
his disciples has ventured then to throw off Judaism altogether. 
But they did perceive, with a perfectly correct insight, that the 
Christians were setting up a new authority alongside of the 
authorities which alone they recognized,— the Scriptures and the 
traditional interpretation of the Scriptures. And it was pre- 
cisely the adoption of a new authority which they desired to 
prevent, So completely was their foresight on this point justi- 
fied, that not long after the death of Christ, his assumed fol- 
lowers received converts without circumcision, that all-essential 
rite ; and that, • after the lapse of no long period of time, 
Judaism was entirely abandoned, and a new religion, w^ith new 
dogmas, new ritual, and new observances, was founded in its 
place. Surely the action of the men who sat in judgment upon 
Jesus needs no further justification, from their own point of 
view, than this one consideration. They had no more sacred 
trust, in their own eyes, than to prevent the admission of any 
other object of worship than the Lord Jehovah. Christ speedily 
became among Christians an object of worship. They owned 
no more solemn duty than to observe in all its parts the law 
delivered by their God to Moses. That law was almost instantly 



316 JESUS CHRIST. 

abandoned by the Christian Church. They knew of no more 
unpardonable crime than apostasy from their faith. That apos- 
tasy was soon committed by the Jewish Christians. 

On all these grounds, then, I venture to maintain that the 
spiritual rulers of Judea were not so blameworthy as has been 
commonly supposed in the execution of Jesus of Nazareth. 
Judged by the principles of universal morality, they were un- 
doubtedly wrong. Judged by the principles of their own relig- 
ion, they were no less undoubtedly right. 

Subdivision 5.— What did he think of himself? 

Having endeavored, as far as our imperfect information will 
admit, to realize the view that would be taken of Jesus by con- 
temporary Jews, let us seek if possible to realize the view 
which ho took of himself. In what relation did he suppose 
himself to stand to God the Father? And in what relation to 
the Hebrew law? What was nis conception of his own mission, 
and of the manner in which it could best be fulfilled ? 

Though, in replying to the'se questions, wo ^ffer somewhat 
from the scarcity of the materials, we do not labor under the 
same disadvantages as those we encountered in the preceding 
section. For there we had to judge between two bitterly hostile 
parties, of which only one had presented its case. And from 
the highly colored statement of this one party we had to un- 
ravel, as best we could, whatever circumstances might be per- 
mitted to weigh in favor of the other. Here we have no con- 
flicting factions to obscure the truth. The opinion formed by 
Jesus of himself has been handed down to us by his own dis- 
ciples, who, even if they did not perfectly understand him, must 
at least have understood him far better than anybody else. And 
if the picture they give us of the conception he had formed of 
his own office be consistent with itself, there is also the utmost 
probability that it is true. Especially will this hold good if this 
conception should be found to differ materially from that not 
long afterwards framed about him by the Christian Church. 

Consider first -.the idea he entertained concerning his Messi- 
anic character, and his consequent relation to God. His convic- 
tion that he was the Messiah, who was sent with a divine mes- 



HIS RELATION TO THE FATHER. 317 

sage to his nation, was evidently ttie mainspring of his life. It 
was under this conviction that he worked his cures and preached 
his sermons. Probably it strengthened as he continued in his 
career, though of this there is no possible evidence. Possibly, 
however, the instructions he gave on several occasions to those 
whom he had healed, and once to his disciples, to tell no man 
about him, arose from a certain diffidence about the power by 
which his miracles were effected {E.g.y Mk. i. 44; Mt. ix. 30), and 
a reluctance to accept the honor which the populace would have 
conferred upon him. However this may be, he certainly put 
forward his belief on this subject plainly enough, and its accept- 
ance by his disciples no doubt confirmed it in his own mind, 
while its rejection by the nation at large, especially the more 
learned portion of it, gave a flavor of bitterness to the tone in 
which he insisted upon it. The title by which he habitually 
designates himself is the Son of man. This was, no doubt, 
selected as a more modest name than "Son of God." The lat- 
ter was never (if we exclude the fourth Gospel) applied by Jesus 
to himself, but when applied to him by others, he made no 
objection to it, but accepted it as his due. The inference from 
his behavior is, that he liked to be thought the Son of God (as 
indeed is shown by his eulogy of Peter when that apostle had 
so described him) (Mt. xvi. 17; vers. 18 and 19 are probably in- 
terpolations), but that he did not quite venture to claim the title 
for himself. That he was ever imagined, either by himself or 
others, to be the Son of God in the literal, materialistic sense 
in which the term was afterwards understood, it would be an 
entire mistake to suppose. No such notion had ever been formu- 
lated by the Jewish mind, and it would, no doubt, have filled 
his earliest disciples with horror. As Mr. Westcott truly ob- 
serves, *' Years must elapse before we can feel that the words 
of one who talked with men were indeed the words of God " 
(Canon of New Testament, p. 6i). Nor was the Hebrew Jehovah 
the sort of divinity who would have had a son by a young vil- 
lage maiden. Proceedings of that kind were left to the heathen 
deities. Nor did Christ, in claiming a filial relationship to God, 
ever intend to claim unity with the divine essence, still less to 
assert that he actually was God himself. This notion of identity 
would receive no sanction even from the fourth Gospel, which 



318 JESUS CHRIST. 

does, quite unlike its predecessors, lend some sanction to that 
of unity in nature. The best proof of this is that Jesus never, 
at any period of his life, desired his followers to worship him, 
either as God or as the Son of God. Had he believed of him- 
self what his followers subsequently believed of him, that he 
was one of the>constituent persons in a divine trinity, he must 
have enjoined his apostles both to address him in prayer them- 
selves, and to desire their converts to address him. It is quite 
plain that he did nothing of the kind, and that they never sup- 
posed hini to have done so. Belief in Christ as the Messiah 
was taught as the first dogma of apost )lic Christianity, but ador- 
ation of Christ as God was not taught at all. But we are not 
left in this matter to depend on conjectural inferences. The 
words of Jesus are plain. Whenever occasion arose, he asserted 
his inferiority to the Father (as Milton has proved to demon- 
stration),* though, as no one had then dreamt of his equality, 
it is natural that the occasions should not have been frequent. 
He made himself inferior in knowledge when he said that of 
the day and hour of the day of judgment no one knew, neither 
the angels in heaven, nor the Son; no one except the Father 
(Mk. xiii. 32). He made himself inferior in power when he said 
that seats on his right hand and on his left in the kingdom of 
heaven were not his to give (Mk. x. 40); inferior in virtue when 
he desired a certain man not to address his as "Good master," 
for there was none good but God (Mk. x. 18). The words of his 
prayer at Gethsemane, "all things are possible unto thee," im- 
ply that all things were not possible to him ; while its conclu- 
sion, "not what I will, but what thou wilt," indicates submis- 
sion to a superior, not the mere execution of a purpose of his 
own (Mk. xiv. 36). Indeed, the whole prayer would have been a 
mockery, useless for any purpose but the deception of his dis- 
ciples, if he had himself been identical with the Being to whom 
he prayed, and had merely been giving effect by his death to 
their common counsels. While the cry of agony from the cross, 
"My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" (Mk. xv. 34,) 
would have been quite unmeaning if the person forsaken and 
the person forsaking had been one and the same. Either, then, 
we must assume that the language of Jesus has been misre- 
* Milton, Treatise on Christian Doctrine, Sumner's translation, p. loo ff. 



HIS RELATION TO THE LAW. 319 

ported, or we must admit that he never for a moment pretended 
to be co-oqual, co-eternal, or con-substantial with God. 

Throughout his public life he spoke of himself as one who 
was sent by God for a certain purpose. What was that pur- 
pose? Was it, as the Gentile Christians so readily assumed, to 
abolish the laws and customs of the Jews, and to substitute 
others in their stead ? Did he, for example, propose to supplant 
circumcision by baptism ? the Sabbath by the Sunday ? tiie 
synagogue by the church? the ceremonial observances of the 
law of Moses by observances of another kind ? If so, let the 
evidence be produced. For unless we find among his recorded 
instructions some specific injunction to his disciples that they 
were no long(T to be Jews, but Christians, we cannot assume 
that he intended any such revolution. Now, not only can no 
such Injunction be produced, ]3ut the whole course of his life 
negatives the supposition that any was given. For while teach- 
ing much on many subjects, he never at any time alludes to 
the Mosaic dispensation as a temporary arrangement, destined 
to yield to a higher law. Yet it would surely have been strange 
if he had left his disciples to guess at his intentions on this all- 
important subject. Moreover, it came directly in his way when 
he censured the Pharisees. He frequently accuses them of 
overlaying the law with a multitude of unnecessary and trouble- 
some rules; but while objecting to these, he never for a 
moment hints that the very law itself was now to become a 
thing of the past. Quite the reverse. The Pharisees were very 
scrupulous about paying tithes and disregarded weightier mat- 
ters; these, he sa^^s, they ought to have done, and not to have 
left the other undone. If those tithes were no longer to be 
paid (at least not for the same objects), why does he not say so ? 
Again, he charges them with transgressing the commandment 
of God by their tradition ; where it is the accretions round the 
law, and not the law itself, which he attacks. In one case he 
even directly imposes an observance of the legal requirements 
on a man over whom he has influence (Mk. i. 44). Moreover, 
he himself evidently continued to perform the obligations of 
his Jewish religion until the very end of his life, for one of his 
last acts was to eat the passover with his disciples. The only 
institution which he apparently desires to alter at all is t*he 



320 JESUS CHRIST. 

Sabbath, and there it is plain that he aims at an amendment 
in the mode of its observance, not at its entire abolition, 
Indeed, he justifies his disciples by invoking the example of 
David, an orthodox Hebrew ; and very happily remarks, that 
the ISabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath— one of 
his best and most epigrammatic sayings. But an institution 
made for man was indeed one to be rationally observed, but by 
no means one to be lightly tampered with. Jesus, in fact, was 
altogether a Jew, and though an ardent reformer, he desired to 
reform within the limits of Judaism, not beyond thera. 

If further proof were needed of this than the fact that he 
himself neither abandoned the religion of his birth, nor sought 
to obtain disciples except among those who belonged to it, it 
would be found in his treatment of the heathen women whose 
daughter was troubled with a devil. To her he distinctly 
declared that he was not sent except to the lost sheep of the 
house of Israel. In reply to her further persistence, he told her 
that it was not well to take the children's meat and throw it to 
dogs. Nothing but her appropriate yet modest answer induced 
him to accede to her request (Mt. xv. 21-28). Further confirma- 
tion is afforded by his instructions to his disciples, whom he 
desired not to go either to the Gentiles or the Samaritans, but 
to the lost sheep of the house of Israel (Mt. x. 5, 6). His own 
practice was altogether in conformity with these instructions. 
He markedly confined the benefits of his teaching to his fellow- 
countrymen. Once only is he said to have visited the neighbor- 
hood of Tyre and Sidon, and then he was anxious to preserve 
the strictest incognito (Mk. vii. 24). Even when the Jews 
refused to believed in him, he sought no converts among the 
Gentiles. He never even intimated that he would receive such 
converts without their previous adoption of the Jewish faith, 
and after his decease his most intimate disciples were doubtful 
whether it was lawful to associate with uncircumcised people 
(Acts X. 28; xi. 2, 3). Not only, therefore, had he himself never 
done so, but he had left no instructions behind him that such a 
relaxation of Jewish scruples might ever be permitted. True, 
when disappointed among his own people, he now and then 
contrasted them in unflattering terms with the heathen. Cho- 
razip and Bethsaida were worse than Tyre and Sidon; Caper- 



HIS MISSION. 321 

niiiim less open to conviction than Sodom (Mt. xi. 20-24). The 
faith of the heathen centurion was greater than any he had 
found in Israel (Mt. viii. 10). Bat all these expressions of 
embittered feeling imply that it was in Israel he had looked for 
faith, towards Israel that his desires were turned. To discover 
faith out of it might be an agreeable surprise, but as a general 
rule, was neither to be expected nor sought. 

Having, then, determined, what the purport of his mission 
was not, let us try to discover what it was. The quest is not 
difficult. The whole of his teaching is pervaded by one ever- 
recurring keynote, wliich those who have ears to hear it cannot 
miss. He came to announce the approach of what he termed 
" the kingdom of heaven." A great revolution was to take 
place on earth. God was to come, accompanied by Jesus, to 
reward the virtuous and to punish the wicked. A totally new 
order of things was to be substituted in lieu of the present un- 
just and unequal institutions. And Jesus was sent by God to 
warn the children of Israel to prepare for this kingdom of 
heaven. There was but little time to lose, for even now the 
day of judgment was at hand. The mind of Jesus was laden 
with this one great thought, to which, with him, all others were 
subordinate. It runs through his maxims of conduct, his para- 
bles, his familiar converse with his disciples. Far from him 
was the notion of founding a new religion, to be extended 
throughout the world and to last for ages. It was a work of 
much more immediate urgency which he came to do. "Prepare 
for the kingdom of heaven, for it will come upon you in the 
present generation;" such was the burden of his message. Let 
us hear his own mode of delivering it to men. 

The very beginning of his preaching, according to Mark, was 
in this strain: *' The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God 
has approached; repent, and believe the Gospel" (Mk. i. 15). 
Precisely similar is the purport of his earliest doctrine accord- 
ing to Matthew (Mt. iv. 7). How thoroughly he believed that 
the time was fulfilled is shown by his decided declaration that 
there were some among his hearers who would not ta.-te of 
death till they had seen the kingdom of God come with power 
(Mk. ix. 1), a saying which, as it \vould never have been invented, 
is undoubtedly genuine. He told his disciples that Elias, who 



322 JESUS CHRIST. 

was expected to precede the kingdom of heaverij^ had already 
come (Mk. ix. 13). 

Over and over again, in a hundred different ways, this absorb- 
ing thought finds expression in his language. The one and 
only message the disciples are instructed to carry to the 
"lost sheep of the house of Israel" is that the kingdom of 
heaven is at hand (Mt. x. 17 . When a ci^y does not receive 
them, they are to wipe off the dust of it against them, and bid 
them be sure that the kingdom of God is near them (Lu. x. 11). 
In the coming judgment, Chorazin, Bethsaida, and above all 
his own place Capernaum, were to suffer more than Tyre, and 
Sidou. Earthly matters assume, in consequence of this convic- 
tion of their temporary nature, a very trivial aspect. The dis- 
ciples are to take no thought for the morrow; the morrow will 
take thought for itself. Nor are they to trouble themselves 
about food and clothing, but to seek first the kingdom of God 
(Mt. vi. 31-34). They are not to lay up treasure on earth, but 
in heaven, in order that their hearts may be there (Mt. vi. 19- 
21). Moreover, they must be always on the watch, as the Son 
of man will come upon them at an unexpected hour. It would 
not do then to be engaged as tlie wicked antediluvians were 
when overtaken by the flood, in the occupations of eating and 
drinking, or marrying and giving in marriage. Instead of this, 
they must be like the faithful servant whom his master on 
returning to his house found watching (Mt. xxiv. 38, 42, 43; Lu. 
xii. 37, 38). Preparation is to be made for the kingdom which 
their Father will give them by selling what they have and be- 
stowing alms, so laying up an incorruptible treasure; by keep- 
ing their loins girded and their lights burning (Lu. xii. 32). 
Neglect of these precautions will be punished by exclusion from 
the joys of the kingdom, as shown in the parable of the ten 
virgins (Mt. xxv. 1-13). But the indications of the great event 
are not understood by the people, who are able to read the 
signs of the coming weather, but not those of the times (Lu. 
xii. 54-57) ; an inability which might have been due to the fact 
that they had had some experience of the one kind of signs and 
none of the other. On another occasion, he observes that the 
law and the prophets were till John; since then the kingdom 
of God has been preached, and every man presses into it (Lu. 



HIS MISSION. ^ 323 

xvi. 16). Here he specially proclaims himself as the preacher 
of the kingdom ; the man who brought mankind this new rev- 
elation. Such was the manner in which this revelation was an- 
nounced, that some at least of those who heard him thought 
that the kingdom was to come immediately. To counteract 
this view he told the parable of the nobleman who went from 
home to receive a kingdom, leaving his servants in charge of 
certain monies, and rewarded them on his return according to 
the amount of interest they had obtained by usury, punishing 
one of them who had made no use of the sum intrusted to him 
(Lu. xix. 11-27). He himself, of coarse, was the nobleman who 
received his kingdom and returned again to judge his servants. 
So urgent was the message he had to deliver, that (according to 
one Evangelist) a man who wished to bury his father before 
joining him was told to let the dead bury their dead, but to go 
himself and announce the kingdom of God; while another, who 
asked leave to bid farewell to his family, was warned that no 
man, having put his hand to the plough, and looking back, was 
fit for that kingdom Lu. ix. 58-62). 

The arrival of the kingdom was to be preceded by various 
signs. There would be false Christs; there would be wars; 
earthquakes, and famines; there would be persecutions of the 
faithful; but the Gospel (that is, the announcement of the ap- 
proach of this new state of things) must first be published in 
all nations.* Then the sun and moon would be darkened and 
the stars fall; the Son of man would come in power and glory, 
and gather his elect from all parts of the earth. The existing 
generation was not to pass till all these things were done. Not 
even the Son knew when this would happen ; but as it might 
come suddenly and unexpectedly upon them, they were to be 
continually on the watch (Mk. xiii. ; Mt. xxiv). The apostles 
would not even finish the cities of Israel before the Son of man 
had come (Mt. x. 23). 

Little is said in description of the nature of the kingdom of 
heaven except by the method of illustration. The main result 
to be gathered from numerous allusions to it is that justice is to 
prevail. Thus, the kingdom of heaven is said to be like a man 

* This verse is so inconsistent with other declarations of Christ, especially 
with Mt. X. 23, that I am disposed to regard it as an interpolation. 



324 JESUS CHRIST. 

who sowed good seed in his field, but in whose property an 
enemy maliciously mingled tares. At the harvest the tares are to 
be burnt, and the wheat gathered into the barn. This parable 
Jesus himself explained. The tares are the wicked; the wheat 
represents "the children of the kingdom." And as tares are 
burnt, so "the Son of nian shall send his angels, and collect 
from his kingdom all offenses, and those who do wickedness, and 
shall throw them into the furnace of fire; there shall be weep- 
ing and gnashing of teeth. Then the just shall shine out like 
the suQ in the kingdom of their Father." The same idea is 
expressed in the illustration of the net cast into the sea, which 
gathers good fish and bad. Just as the fishermen separate these, 
so the angels at the end of the world will separate the wicked 
from the midst of the just. Other comparisons represent the 
influence on the heart of faith in the kingdom. Thus, the king- 
dom of heaven is like a grain of mustard seed, which, though 
the smallest of seeds, becomes the largest of herbs. Or it is 
like leaven leavening three measures of meal. Again, it is like 
treasure hid in a field, or a pearl of great price (Mt. xiii. 24-50). 

The best qualification for preeminence in the kingdom was 
humility. 

When asked who was to be greatest in the kingdom of 
heaven, Jesus replied that it would be he who humbled himself 
like a little child (Mt. xviii. 1-4). He delights in the exhibition 
of striking contrasts between the present and the future state 
of things. The first are to be the last, and the last first. Those 
who have made great sacrifices now are then to receive vast 
rewards (Mk. x. 29-31). He who has lost his life for his sake is 
to find it, and he who has found it is to lose it (Mt. x. 39). The 
stone rejected by the builder is to become the head of the cor- 
ner (Mk. xii. 10). The kingdom of God is to be taken from the 
privileged nation and given to anothQr more worthy of it (Mt. 
xxi. 43). Publicans and harlots are to take precedence of the 
respectable classes in entering the kingdom (Mt. xxi. 31). It is 
scarcely possible for rich men to enter it all, though God may 
perhaps admit them by an extraordinary exertion of power (Mk. 
X. 23-27). Many even who trust in their high character for cor- 
rect religion will find themselves rejected. But they will be 
safe who have both heard the sayings of Jesus and done them. 



HIS MISSION. 325 

They will have built their houses on rocks, from which the 
storms Avhich usher iu the kingdom will not dislodge them. 
Those, however, who hear these sayings, and neglect to perform 
them, will be like foolish men who have built their houses on 
sand, where the storms will beat them down, and great will be 
their fall (Mt. vii. 22-29). That the kingdom is to be on earth, 
not in some unknown heaven, is manifest from the numerous 
references of Jesus to the time when the Son of man will 
•*come;" a lime which none can know, yet for which all are to 
watch. He never speaks of men "going" to the kingdom of 
heaven ; it is the kingdom of heaven which is to come to tbem. 
And the most remarkable of the many contrasts will be that 
between the present humiliation of the Son and his future 
glory. He will return to execute his Father's decrees. His 
judges themselves will see him ''sitting on the right hand of 
power, and coming in the clouds of heaven " (Mt. xxvi. 64). 
instead of standing as a prisoner at the bar, he will then be 
enthroned as a judge. '*When the Son of man shall come in 
his glory, and all the angels with him, then he shall sit on the 
throne of his glory; and all the nations 'shall be collected 
before him, and he shall separate them from one another, as 
the shepherd separates the sheep from the goats; and he shall 
put the sheep on his right hand, but the goats on hffe left.'* 
The goats, who have done harm, are then to go into everlasting 
punishment; and the sheep, who have done good, are to pass 
into eternal life (Mt. xxv. 31-46). 

This equitable adjustment of rewards and punishments to 
merit and demerit is the leading conception in the revolution 
which the kingdom of heaven is to make. The faithful servant 
is to be made ruler over his master's goods ; the unfaithful one 
to be cut off and assigned a portion with the hypocrites. The 
virgins whose lamps are ready burning will be admitted to the 
marriage festival. The servants who make the best use of the 
property committed to their charge will be rewarded, while 
those who have failed to employ it properly will be cast into 
outer darkness (Mt. xxiv. 42-xxv. 30;. So also the wicked hus- 
bandman in the vineyard, who ill-treated their master's ser- 
vants and killed his heir, are to be destroyed when he comes, 
and the vineyard is to be committed to other cultivators (Mk. 



326 JESUS CHRIST. 

xii. 1-9). All those, on the other hand, who have made greafc 
sacrifices for the sake of Christ will receive a hundred-fold com- 
pensation for all that they have now abandoned (Mt. xix. 29, 30). 
Such was the sort of notion — rude, yet tolerably definite — 
which Jesus had formed of the kingdom his Father was about 
to found, and for the coming of which he taught his disciples 
to pray. This hope of a reign of justice, of an exaltation of the 
lowly and virtuous, and a depression of the proud and wicked, 
animated his teaching and inspired his life. To make known 
this great event, so shortly to overtake them, to mankind, was 
a duty with which in his opinion he had been charged by God ; 
to receive this message at his hands was in his judgment the 
first of virtues, to spurn it the most unpardonable of crimes. 

Subdivision 6.—WJiat did Ms disciples think of him? 

There is on record a remarkable conversation which affords 
us a glimpse, both of the rumors that were current about Christ 
among the people, and also of the view taken of him by his 
nearest friends during his life-time. Jesus had gone with his 
disciples into the towns of Caesarea Philippi. On the way, being 
apparently curious about the state of public opinion, he asked 
them, '* Whom do men say that I am ?" To this they replied, 
'* John the Baptist; and some say Elias, and others that thou 
art one of the prophets." To which Jesus rejoined, " But you, 
whom say you that I am?" Peter returned the answer, "Thou 
art the Messiah;" or '*Thou art the Messiah, the Son of the 
living God." It is remarkable that Peter alone is represented 
as replying to this second question, as if the others had not yet 
attained to the conviction which this apostle held of the Mes- 
siahship of Jesus. Especially would this conclusion be confirmed 
if we adopted the version of Matthew, where Jesus expresses 
his high approbation of Peter's answer (Mk. viii. 27-30 ; Mt. xvi. 
13-20). If this apostle was peculiarly blessed on account of his 
perception of this truth, it may be inferred that his companions 
had either not yet perceived, or were not yet sure of it. That 
Peter did not mean by calling him the Messiah to state that he 
was a portion of the deity himself, is evident from what fol- 
lows; for Jesus having predicted his future sufferings, "Peter 



HIS DIVINITY ACCORDING TO JOHN. 327 

began to rebuke him," anxious to avert the omen. Had lie 
believed that it was God himself with whom he was convers- 
ing, he could hardly have ventured to question his perfect 
knowledge of the future. 

The doctrine of the divinity of Christ is not, in fact, to be 
found in the New Testament. Even the writer of the fourth 
Gospel, who holds the highest and most mystical view of his 
nature, does not teach that. Often indeed in that Gospel does 
Jesus speak of himself as one with the Father. But the dog- 
matic force of all these expressions is measured by the fact 
that precisely in the same sense he speaks of the disciples as 
one with himself. As the Father and he are in one another, so 
he prays that the disciples may be one in them (Jo. xvii. 21). 
Moreover, when the Jews charged him with making himself 
God, he met them by inquiring whether it Was not written in 
their law, "I said, Ye are gods." If, then, those to whom the 
word of God came were called gods, was it blasphemy in him, 
whom the Father had sanctified and sent, to say, "I am the 
Son of God?" (Jo. x. 33-37). Here, then, the term which Jesus 
appropriates is "Son of God," and this he considers admissible 
because the Hebrew people generally had been called gods. 
Evidently, then, he does not admit the charge of making him- 
self God. 

The Huthority of the fourth Gospel is, of course of no value 
in enabling us to determine what Jesus said or did, but it is of 
great value as evidence of the view taken about him by those 
of his disciples who, at this early period, had advanced the fur- 
thest in the direction of placing him on a level with God him- 
self. It is either the latest, or one of the latest, compositions 
in the New Testament, and it proves that, at the period when 
its author lived, even the boldest spirits had not ventured on 
the dogma which afterwards became the corner-stone of the 
Christian creed. 

Throughout the re-t of the canonical books, Jesus is simply 
the Messiah, the Son of God; in whom, in that sense, it is a 
duty to believe. Whoever 'believes this much is, according to 
the first epistle of John, born of God (1 John v. 1). 

Clearer still is the evidence that, in the opinion of those 
most competent to judge, Jesus had no intention of abolishing 



328 JESUS OHEIST. 

the observance of the law of Moses. So far were his disciples 
from imagining that he contemplated any such change, that 
they were at first in doubt whether it was allowable for them 
even to relax the rules Avhich forbade social intercourse with 
heathens. The writer of the Acts of the Apostles, however, in- 
forms us that, when an important convert was to be won over 
from the pagan ranks, Peter had tbe privilege of a vision which 
enjoined him not to call anything which God had cleansed 
common or unclean. Interpreting this to mean that he might 
associate with the Gentiles, he received the heathen convert, 
Cornelius, with all cordiality, and even preached the gospel of 
Jesus to the uncircumcised company by whom he was sur- 
rounded. That this was a novel measure is plainly evinced by 
the fact that the Jewish Christians who were present were 
astonished that the gift of the Holy Ghost should be poured 
out upon the Gentiles. They therefore had conceived that 
Christianity was to be confined to themselves (Acts x). 

But there is more direct evidence of the same fact. When 
Peter returned to Jerusalem, the circumcised believers there 
found fault with him because he had gone in to uncircumcised 
men, and had eaten with them. Peter, of course, related his 
vision in self-defense, and since there was no reply to be made 
to such an argument as this, they accepted the new and unex- 
pected fact which he announced: "Well, tlien, God has given 
repentance to life to the Gentiles also" (Acts xi. 1-18). Paul, 
who was too strong-minded to need a revelation to teach him 
the best way of promoting Christian interests, also received 
heathen converts without requiring them to come under Jewish 
obligations. But the conduct of these apostles was far from 
meeting with unmixed approbation in the community. Some 
men from Judea came to Antioch, where Paul and Barnabas 
were, and informed the brethren there that unless they were 
circumcised they could not be saved. So important was this 
question deemed, that Paul and Barnabas, after much disputing 
with these Judaic Christians, agreed to go with them to Jeru- 
salem to refer the matter to a council of the apostles and eld- 
ers. Obviously, then, it was a new case which had arisen. No 
authoritative dictum of Jesus could be produced. The possibil- 
ity of having to receive heathens among his disciples was one 



HEATHEN PROSELYTES. 329 

he had never contemplated. Called to deal with this supremely- 
important question, on which the whole future of the Church 
turned, the apostles displayed moderation and good sense. Act- 
ing on the concurrent advice of Peter, Paul, James, and Barna- 
bas, they wrote to the brethren in Antioch, Syria, and Cilicia, 
that they had determined to lay no greater burden upon them 
than these necessary things:—!. Abstinence from meat offered 
to idols ; 2. from blood ; 3. from things strangled ; 4. from for- 
nication. Hence it will be seen that they absolved the heathen 
believers from all Jewish observances except two, those that 
forbade blood and things strangled. These, from long habit and 
the fixed prejudices of their race, no doubt appeared to them to 
have some deeper foundation than a mere arbitrary command. 
These therefore they enjoined even upon pagans (Acts xv. 
1-31). 

Be it observed, however, that this dispensation applied only 
to those who were not of Hebrew blood. The ai)ostles and 
elders assembled at Jerusalem had no thought of dispensing 
themselves from the binding force of the law of Moses. To ob- 
serve it was alike their privilege and their duty. They did not 
conceive that, in becoming Christians, they had ceased to be 
Jews, any more than a Catholic who becomes a Protestant con- 
ceives that he has ceased to be a Christian. The question 
whether those who had been born Jews should abandon their 
ancient religion was not even raised at this time among them. 
The only question was whether those who had not been born 
Jews should adopt it. 

Innovation, however, is not to be arrested at any given point. 
Liberty having been conceded to the Gentiles, it was not un- 
natural that some of the apostles, when living among the Gen- 
tiles, should take advantage of it for themselves. No overt 
rule was adopted on this subject. It seems to have been tacitly 
understood that all Jews should continue to be bound by the 
rigor of their native customs, except in so far as they had been 
modified by common consent : and the attempt of some to escape 
from this burden was an occasion of no small scandal to the 
more orthodox members of the sect (Ads xxi, 20; Gal. ii. 12) 
Both Peter and Paul indeed, at separate times, were compelled 
to make some concessions to the extremely strong feeling in 



330 JESUS CHRIST. 

favor of the law which existed ac headquarters. The conduct 
of these two eminent apostles merits examination. 

Peter, it appears, never gave up Judaism in his own person; 
but when staying at Antioch he mixed freely with Gentiles, 
making no attempt to impose the law upon them, and approv- 
ing of the proceedings of Paul. It so happened, however, that 
there came to Antioch some brethren from James at Jerusalem. 
These men were strict Jews, and Peter was so much afraid of 
them, that he "withdrew and separated himself" from his 
former companions. The other Jewish Christians, and even 
Barnabas, the former friend of Paul, were induced to act in the 
same way. Paul, who was not likely to lose the opporunity of 
a little triumph over Peter, ruthlessly exposed his misconduct. 
According to his account, he publicly addressed him in these 
terms: "If thou, being a Jew, livest like a Gentile and not like 
a Jew, why dost thou compel the Gentiles to be like Jews?" 
(Gal. ii. 11-14.) What answer Peter returned, or whether he 
returned any, Paul does not inform us. His charge against 
Peter I understand to be, not that the apostle had positively 
adopted heathen customs, and then taken up Jewish ones 
again, but that he had relaxed in his own favor the rules which 
forbade Jews from eating with Gentiles. On the appearance of 
the stricter Christians from Jerusalem he put on the appearance 
of a strictness equal to their own. Such conduct was consistent 
with the character of the disciple who had denied his master. 

Paul himself, on the other hand, was a complete freetliinker. 
Once converted, the system of which he had formerly been the 
zealous upholder no longer had any power over his emancipated 
mind. His robust and logical intellect soon delivered him from 
the fetters in which he had been bound. Far, however, from 
following his example, the Christians at Jerusalem were shocked 
at the laxity of his morals. The steps he took to conciliate 
them are graphically described in the Acts of the Apostles. On 
visiting the capital, Paul and his companions went to see James, 
with whom were assembled all the elders; and Paul described 
the success he had met with among the Gentiles. Hereupon 
the assembled company, or more probably James as their 
spokesman, informed Paul what very disadvantageous reports 
were current concerning him. "Thou seest, brother," they 



PAUL'S VIEW OF MOSAIC LAW. 331 

began, "how many thousands of believers there are among the 
Jews, and all are zealots for the law; and they have been in- 
formed of thee that thou teachest the Jews among the Gentiles 
apostasy from Moses, saying that they should not circumcise 
their children, nor walk in the customs. AVhat is it, then? Tt 
is quite necessary that the multitude should meet, for they wilt 
hear that thou art come. Do then this that we tell thee. We 
have four men who have a vow upon them; take these and be 
purified with them, and bear the expense with them of having 
their heads shaven ; and all will know that there is nothing in 
what they have heard about thee, but that thou also walkest 
in the observation of the law" (Acts xxi. 20-24). This sensible 
advice was adopted by Paul; and the "zealots for the law,*' 
who composed the Christian community at Jerusalem, had the 
satisfaction of seeing him purify himself and enter the temple 
with the men under the vow. On a later occasion, too, when 
charged wath crime before Felix, Paul mentioned the fact that 
twelve days ago he had gone up to worship at Jerusalem, as if 
he had been an orthodox Jew (Acts xxiv. 11). 

But although he might think it expedient to satisfy James 
and his friends at Jerusalem by a concession to public opinion, 
the rumor which had reached the brethren there, if unfounded 
in the letter, was in fact an accurate representation of the in- 
evitable outcome of Paul's teaching. Possibly he did not wish 
to press his own views upon others of his nation, and therefore 
did not interfere with such of them as, though living among 
heathens, yet adhered religiously to their national customs. 
But unquestionably his own feelings were strongly enlisted in 
favor of the abolition of the law, and if the Jewish Christians 
read and accepted his writings, they could hardly fail to adopt 
his practice. The law in his opinion was no longer necessary 
for those who believed in Christ. He is not the true Jew who 
is one outwardly, nor is that the true circumcision which is 
outward. He is a Jew who is so internally, and circumcision is 
of tiie heart in the spirit, not in the letter. If it be asked what 
advantage the Jew has, Paul replies that he has much : the 
first of all, that to his nation were confided the oracles of God 
(Kom. ii. 28, 29, iii. 1, 2). He knows, he says, and is persuaded 
in the Lord Jesus, that there is nothing unclean in itself, though 



332 JESUS CHRIST. 

to him who thinks it so it may be- unclean. It is well to ab- 
stain from eating flesh or drinking wine, or anything else that 
may give offense to others, but these things are all unimportant 
in themselves. One man esteems one day above another; an- 
other man esteems them all alike; let each be fully persuaded 
in his own mind. Only let us not judge one anoiher, nor put 
stumbling-blocks in one another's way (Eom. xiv). 

From these considerations it appears that the suspicions 
entertained of Paul at Jerusalem were substantially true. Pos- 
sibly he did not absolutely teach the Jews to abandon the law; 
possibly he did not even completely abandon it himself. But in 
his writings he constantly treats it as a thing indifferent in 
itself; Christians might or might not believe in its obligations, 
and provided they acted conscientiously, all was well. Along 
with these very skeptical opinions, however, Paul strongly held 
to the necessity of worldly prudence. He is very indignant with 
the "false brethren privily introduced, who slipped in to spy 
out the liberty we have in Jesus Christ, that they might enslave 
us; to whom," he adds, "we did not yield by subjection even 
for an hour " (Gal. ii. 4, 5). But whether the brethren at Jeru- 
salem required him to clear himself from the report that he 
was not an observer of the lay, there came in another principle 
of action, which he has himself explained with praiseworthy 
frankness. "To the Jews," he tells the Corinthians, "I be- 
came as a Jew, that I might gain the Jews; to those under 
the law as under the law, not being myself under the law, 
that I might gain those under the law; to those without law, 
as without law (not being without law to God, but law-abid- 
ing to Christ), that I might gain those without law; to the 
weak I became weak, that I might gain the weak ; I became all 
things to all men, that by all means I might save some " (1 
Cor. ix. 20-22). Acting on this elastic rule, Paul might easily 
comply with all the demands of James and his zealots. To the 
Jews he became a Jew for the nonce. It was perhaps in the 
same spirit of worldly wisdom that he took the precaution of 
circumcising a young convert who was Jewish only on the 
mother's side, his father having been a Greek (Acts xvi. 1-3), 

While such was the conduct of this strong-minded reformer, 
it is plain that his attitude towards the law was not shared by 



THE EBI0NITE8. 333 

the personal friends of Jesus. James at Jerusalem adhered 
strictly to Judaism. The other apostles, so far as we know, did 
the same. The rest of the brethren there did the same. Paul 
was tolerated, and even cordially received, as the apostle of the 
Gentiles, but it does not appear that he had any following 
among the Jews. Had any of the original apostles followed 
him in his bold innovations, he would surely have mentioned 
the fact, as he has mentioned the partial adhesion of Peter. 
On the contrary, he seems in his epistles, when attacking the 
.Judaic type of Christianity, to be arguing as much against 
them as against the unchristian Jews or the heathen. 

Stronger evidence than mere inference is, however, obtaina- 
ble on this point. The Jewish Christians, who had received 
their doctrines direct from the companions of Jesus, soon came 
to form a sect apart, and were known by the name of Ebionites. 
Of these men, Irenaeus tells us that "they use the Gospel 
according to Matthew only, and repudiate the apostle Paul, 
maintaining that he was an apostate from the law." Moreover, 
"they practice circumcision, persevere in the observance of 
those customs which are enjoined by the law, and are so Judaic 
in their style of life, that they even adore Jerusalem as if it 
were the house of God" (Adv. Haer. i. 26). It was a strange fate 
that befell these unfortunate people, when, overwhelmed by the 
flood of heathenism that had swept into the Church, they were 
condemned as heretics. Yet there is no evidence that they had 
ever swerved from the doctrines of Jesus, or of the disciples 
who knew him in his life-time. Jesus himself had been circum- 
cised, and he certainly never condemned the rite, or spoke of 
it as useless for the future. He was so Judaic in his style of 
life that he reverenced the temple at Jerusalam as " a house of 
prayer for all nations," and deemed it his special duty to purify 
it from what he regarded as pollution. But the torrent of prog- 
ress swept past the Ebionites, and left them stranded on the 
shore. 

Should the position here maintained with reference to the 
Judaic character of the early Christians be thought to require 
further confirmation, I should find it in the weighty words of a 
theologian who, while entirely Chrisiian in his views, is also one 
of the highest authorities on the history of the Church. Nean- 



334 JESUS CHEIST. 

der, speaking of this question, observes that the disciples did 
not at once arrive at the consciousness of that vocation which 
Christ (in his opinion) had indicated to them, namely, that they 
should form a distinct community from that of the Jews. On the 
contrary, they attached themselves to this community in every re- 
respect, and all the forms of the national theocracy were holy to 
them. •' They lived in the conviction that these forms would con- 
tinue as they ^vere till the retura of Christ, by which a new and 
higher order of things was to be founded ; and this change they 
expected as one that was near a hand. Far from them, therefore, 
lay the thought of the foundation of a new cultus, even if from, 
the light of belief in the Eedeemer new ideas had dawned upon 
them about that which belonged to the essence of the true 
adoration of God. They took part as zealously in the service of 
the temple as any pious Jews. Only they believed that a sift? 
ing would take place among the theocratic people, and that the 
better part of it would be incorporated in tJieir community by 
the recognition of Jesus as the Messiah " (Neander, Pflanzung 
der Christlichen Kirche, vol. i. p. 38). Neander proceeds to 
point out — and here too his remarks are valuable — that the 
outward forms of Judaism gave facilities for the formation of 
such smaller bodies within the general body, by means of the 
division into synagogues. The Christians, therefore, constituted 
merely a special synagogue, embraced within the mass of 
believers who all accepted the law of Moses, all worshiped at 
the temple of Jerusalem. It will be seen, however, that I differ 
from Neander in so far as he supposes that the members of 
the Christian synagogue, in adhering to Judaism, were neglect- 
ing any indications given by their founder. On the contrary, it 
appears to me a more reasonable explanation of their conduct 
that the founder himself had never contemplated that entire 
emancipation from Judaic forms which was soon to follow. 

On these two points^ then — the humanity of Jesus and his 
Judaism — the early history of the Church affords our position 
ail possible support. How is it about the third — his announce- 
ment of a kingdom of heaven soon to come? Paul must 
have derived his doctrine on this point, whatever it was, 
from those who were disciples of Christ before him, for it 
does not appear that he had any special revelation on the sub- 



THE SECOND COMING. 335 

ject. Let us hear what was the impression made upon his 
mind by their report of the teaching of Jesus, ** We do not 
wish you to be ignorant, brethren " — so he writes to the Thes- 
salonians — " that you may not grieve like the rest who have 
no hope. For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, thus 
also will God bring those who sleep through Jesus. For this 
we say to you by the word of the Lord " (Paul therefore is speak- 
ing with all the authority of his apostolic commission), ''that 
we who are alive and are left for the coming of the Lord shall 
not take precedence of those who are asleep. For the Lord 
himself shall descend from heaven with the word of command, 
with the voice of the 'archangel, and with the trumpet of God, 
and the dead in Christ will rise first. Then we who are alive 
and are left shall be snatched with them in the clouds to meet 
the Lord in the air, and thus we shall always be with the 
Lord" (1 Thess. iv. 13-17). Clearer than this it is difficult to be. 
There can be no question whatever, unless we put an arbitrary 
significance on these words, that Paul looked for the second 
coming of Christ and the final judgment long before the exist- 
ing generation had passed away. Some will fall asleep before 
that day, but he fully expects that he himself and many of 
those whom he is addressing will be alive to witness it. So 
confident is he of this, that he even describes the order in which 
the faithful will proceed to join their Lord, the dead taking a 
higher rank than the liviog. He differs from Jesus, and prob- 
ably from the other apostles, in placing the kingdom of heaven 
somewhere in the clouds, and not on earth. But he entirely 
agrees with them as to the date of the revolution. Quite con- 
sistent with the above passage is another (of which, however, 
the correct reading is doubtful): "We shall not all sleep, but 
we shall all be changed." 

Filled with the like hope, he prays that the spirit, mind, 
and body of the Thessalonians may be preserved blameless to 
the coming of Christ (1 Thess. v. 23). And he comforts them in 
a subsequent letter by the promise that they who are troubled 
shall have " rest with us in the revelation of the Lord Jesus 
from heaven with the angels of his power (2 Thess. i. 7). While, 
in writing to the Corinthians, he speaks of the existing gener- 
ation as those "upon whom the ends of the ages have come." 



336 JESUS CHBIST. 

Not less clear is the language of the other apostles. Pstei 
on that memorable day of Pentecost when the apostles exhibit 
the gift of tongues, and some irreverent spectators are led to 
charge them with inebriety, explains to the assembly that the 
scene which had just been witnessed was characteristic of the 
"last days," as foretold by the prophet Joel. In those days 
their sons and their daughters were to prophesy, their young 
men to see visions, and their old men to dream dreams; the 
Spirit was to be poured out on God's servants and handmaidens; 
there were to be signs and wonders; blood, fire, and smoke ;^ 
the sun was to be turned into darkness, and the moon into 
blood; and whoever called on the name of the Lord was to be 
saved. Thus Peter, than whom there could be no higher 
authority as to the mind of Christ, applied to his own time the 
prophetic description of the "day of the Lord" given by Joel 
(Acts ii, 14-2). James exhorts his disciples not to be in too 
great a hurry for the arrival of Christ. They are to imitate the 
husbandman waiting for the ripening of his crops. "Be you 
also patient: confirm your hearts; for the coming of the Lord 
draws near " (James v. 7, 8). The author of the first epistle of 
Peter distinctly informs the Christian community that "the 
end of all things is at hand." And he warns them not to think 
it strange concerning the fiery trial which is to try them, "but 
rejoice, inasmuch as you share in the sufferings of Christ; that 
in the revelation of his glory you may also rejoice with exceed- 
ing joy " (1 Pet. iv. 7, 12, 13). Further on he promises that 
when the chief Shepherd appears, they shall receive "the un- 
fading crown of glory" (1 Pet. v. 4). In the first epistle of John 
the disciples are thus exhorted: "And now, little children, re- 
main in him, that when he comes we may have boldness, and 
may not be ashamed before him at his coming " (1 Jo, ii. 28). 

In the next chapter he tells them that "when he appears we 
shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is " (1 Jo. iii. 2). 
Of the Apocalypse it cannot be necessary to speak in detail. 
The one great thought that inspires it from beginning to end 
is that of the speedy return of Jesus, accompanied as it will be 
by the judgment of the wicked, the reward of the f lithful, and 
the establishment of a new heaven and a new earth far more 
glorious and more beautiful than those that are to pass away. 



THE SECOND COMING. 337 

The end of the book is conclusive as to its meaning: "I, Jesus» 
have sent m3^ angel to testify these things to 3^011 in the 
churches." " He that testifies these things says, * Surely I come 
quiclily. So be it; come, Lord Jesus'" (Rev. xxii. 16, 20). 

There is another passage bearing on this subject, which, as 
it appears to have been written at a later date than any of 
those hitherto quoted, may best be considered last. It is found 
in the second epistle attributed to Peter. The epistle was prob- 
ably written after the first generation of Christians had passed 
away, but the forger endeavors to assume the style of the apos- 
tle whose name he borrows. From the language he employs it 
is evident that there was some impatience among believers in 
his day on account of what seemed to them the long delay in 
the second coming of Christ. Scoffers had arisen, who were 
putting the awkward question, ** Where is the promise of his 
coming? for since the fathers fell asleep, all things continue as 
they were from the beginning of creation." Such scoffers, he 
tells them, are to come "in the last days," and he warns them 
how to resist the influence of their specious arguments. For 
this purpose he reminds them of the former destruction of the 
earth by water, and assures them that the present heavens and 
the present earth are to be destroyed by fire. They are not to 
let the consideration escape them that with the Lord one day is 
a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day. Hence God 
is not really slow about fu filling his promise, as some people 
believe; he is only waiting out of kindness, not being willing 
that any should perish, but desiring that all should come to 
repentance. But the day of the Lord will come unexpectedly, 
like a thief in the night; wherefore the Christians who are look- 
ing for new heavens and a new earth, according to his promise, 
must take care to be ready that they may be found by him spot-- 
less and blameless (2 Pet. iii). Here, then, we have a further 
proof of the hopes entertained by the early Christians; for this 
writer, who evidently felt that the promises held out by the 
original apostles were in danger of being discredited by the 
long delay in the expected catastrophe, concerns himself to 
show that the postponement of its arrival is not after all so 
great as it may seem, and seeks to dispel the doubts that had 
grown up conceming it. He thug bears important testimony to 



338 JESUS CHRIST. 

the nature of the expectations entertained by those who had 
gone before him. 

But even if we had not this epistle, we should find some 
evidence of the same fact in the writings of the earliest fathers. 
Thus, in the first epistle of Clement, the Christians are warned 
in the following language: — 

**rar from us be that which is written, 'Wretched are they 
who are of a double mind and of a doubting heart;' who say, 
' These things we have heard even in the time of our fathers ; 
but behold, we have grown old and none of them has happened 
unto us!' Ye foolish ones! compare yourselves to a tree; take 
[for instance] the vine. First of all it sheds its leaves, then it 
buds, next it puts forth leaves, and then it flowers; after that 
comes the sour grape, and then follows the ripened fruit. Ye 
perceive how in a little time the fruit of a tree comes to matu- 
rity. Of a truth, soon and suddenly shall his will be accom- 
plished, as the Scripture also bears witness, saying, 'Speedily 
will he come, and not tarry;' and, 'The Lord shall suddenly 
come to his temple, even the Holy One, for whom ye look'" 
(First Ep. of Clement, ch xxiii.— A. N. L., vol. i. p. 24). 

Further on, the same writer expressly states that what the 
apostles of Christ preached was the speedy advent of the new 
order of things. ''Having therefore received their orders, and 
being fully assured by the ressurrection of our Lord Jesus 
Christ, and established in the word of God, with fall assurance 
of the Holy Ghost, they went forth proclaiming that the king- 
dom of God was at hand " (Ibid., ch. xli. — A. N. L., vol. i. p. 37). 
Here, then, we have authority of this very early writer for the 
statement that such was the view taken of the mission of Jesus 
by his original disciples. 

Again, in the second epistle of Clement, this expression 
occurs:— "Let us expect, therefore, hour by hour, the kingdom 
of God in love and righteousness^ since we know not the day 
of the appearing of God " (Second Ep. of Clement, ch, xii.— A. 
N. L., vol. i. p. 62). Thus it appears that the apostles received 
from Jesus, and the early Christians from the apostles, the doc- 
trine that the return of the Messiah in his glory would take 
place soon. 



HIS CHARACTER AND DOCTRINE. 339 

Subdivision 7.— What are we to think of him? 

We come now to the most important question of all, namely, 
what opinion the evidence we possess should lead us to form of 
the moral character of Jesus, and of the value of his teaching. 
In considering this subject, we are met at the threshold of the 
inquiry by the extreme difQcnlty of discarding the traditional 
view which has gained currency among us. Not only believers 
in the Christian religion, but freethinkers who look upon Christ 
as no more than an extraordinary man, have united to utter 
his praises in no measured terms. His conduct has been sup- 
posed to present an ideal of perfection to the human race, and 
his aphorisms to embody the supreme degree of excellence and 
of wisdom. Some critics, not being Christians, have even gone 
so far as to assume that whatever items in his reported lan- 
guage or behavior seemed to reflect some discredit upon him 
could not be genuine, but must be due to the imaginations of 
his disciples. 

AH this unbounded panegyric naturally raises in the minds 
of critics who have freed themselves from the accepted tradi- 
tion a slight prejudice against him, and this may lead them to 
regard his errors with too unsparing a severity, and to mete 
out scant justice to the merits he may really possess. No task 
can be less easy than that of approaching this question with a 
mind entirely devoid of bias on the one side or on the other. 
For my own part, I shall endeavor, if I cannot attain perfect 
impartiality, at least neither to praise nor to blame without 
adequate reason. 

Before proceeding, however, it may be well to state that I 
shall not attempt to discriminate between the authentic and 
the unauthentic utterances of Jesus, but shall take for granted 
that his reporters — excluding the fourth Evangelist — have in 
the main reported him correctly. No doubt this position is not 
strictly true. There must be errors, and there may be grave 
errors in the record, since those who transmitted the language 
of their master trusted only to memory. But it is on the whole 
much more likely that the parables, sermons, and short sayings 
ascribed to Jesus represent with some approach to fidelity what 
he really said, than that they, or any considerable portion of 



340 JESTJS CHRIST. 

them, were invented by any of his disciples afterwards. They 
have, moreover, a characteristic flavor which it would have 
been difficult for a forger to give to the fictitious utterances he 
might have added to the genuine remains. It is, however, a 
ques ion of minor import whether the synoptical writers are or 
are not faithful reporters. Jesus is presented to our admiration 
by them as the Son of God, and as a pattern of virtue and of 
wisdom. Therefore, even if we are not criticising a portrait 
from life, we are at least criticising the ideal portrait which 
they have held up as an object of worship, and which Christen- 
dom has accepted as such. 

Omitting (as already considered) those very considerable por- 
tions of his doctrine which refer to himself and to his kingdom, 
we may proceed to the more strictly ethical elements which are 
to be found scattered about in his instructions to his hearers, 
sometimes contained in those striking parables which, following 
the habit of his nation, he was fond of relating; sometimes in 
the short, clear, and incisive sentences of which he was a mas- 
ter. In considering the value and originality of his views, it 
will bo of advantage to compare them, where we can, with those 
of other great teachers of mankind. 

Perhaps one of the most conspicuous peculiarities is his fond- 
ness for impressive contrasts. He has a peculiar pleasure in 
contemplating the reversal of existing arrangements. The first 
are to be last; the humble exalted; the poor preferred to the 
rich ; the meanest to become the greatest, and so forth. Strangely 
similar to this favorite idea, so continually making its appear- 
ance in his moral forecasts, is the language frequently used by 
his Chinese predecessor La6-ts^, who in more than one respect 
greatly resembles him. Thus Jesus tells his disciples that he 
who is greatest among them shall be their servant, and that 
he who exalts himself shall be abased, while he who humbles 
himself shall be exalted (Mt. xxiii. 10, 11). Elsewhero he de- 
clares that if any man desire to be first, he shail be last, and 
servant of all (Mk. ix. 35). Presenting a child, to render his 
lesson the more impressive, he tells them that he who humbles 
himself like this little child is greatest in the kingdom of heaven 
(Mt. xviii. 4). Exactly in the same tone Lad-tsd observes that 
'*the holy man places himself behind, and comes to the front; 



HIS OHA.BAOTER AND DOCTRINE. 341 

neglects- himself and is preserved " (T. t. k., ch. vii). Heaven, 
stccording to the same sage, does precisely as Jesus expects his 
Father to do in the kingdom of heaven. ** It lowers the high, 
it raises the low. The way of heaven is to diminish what is 
superfluous, to complete what is deficient. The way of man is 
not this; he diminishes what is deficient to add it to what is 
superfluous" (T. t. k., ch. Ixxvii). 

On the same subject of humility, an opinion of the philoso- 
pher Mang, or Mencius, may be compared with one of Christ's. 
There was a strife among the disciples of the latter which should 
be accounted the greatest. Christ said: *'The kings of the earth 
have dominion over them, and they who have authority over them 
are called benefactors. But be not you so: but let the greater 
among you be as the younger, and he that leads as he that 
serves " (Lu. xxii. 26, 26). Now Mang in like manner warns his 
disciples against the craving for authority. " Mencius said : 
' The superior man has three things in which he delights, and 
to be ruler over the empire is not one of them. That his father 
and mother are both alive, and that the condition of his broth- 
ers affords no cause for anxiety ; — this is one delight. That, 
when looking up, he has no occasion for shame before heaven; 
and below, he has no occabion to blush before men; — this is a 
second de'.ight. That he can get from the whole empire the 
most talented individuals, and teach and nourish them;— this 
is the third delight. The superior man has three things in 
which he delights, and to be ruler over the empire is not one 
of them'" (Mang, vii. 1, 20. — C. C, vol. ii. p. 334). This defini- 
tion of the pleasures of the high-minded man is quite equal of 
its kind to anything that has been said on the same subject by 
Jesus. It is true that Mang ranges over a somewhat wider 
field, and that therefore the sentences just quoted do not admit 
of exact comparison with anything coming from Jesus. But 
while both agree in reprobating the desire to exercise power, 
Mang goes beyond Jesus in proposing to substitute other inter- 
ests for that of political ambition. And these interests tire of 
the best kind. His "superior man" rejoices in the prosperity 
of his family, in the consciousness of his innocence of any dis- 
graceful conduct, and in his opportunities of teaching those 
who are most worthy of liis instructions and most likely to 



342 JESUS CHRIST. 

carrj^ on his work. The latter is a pleasure which is rarely 
mentioned, and it shows much thoughtfulness on the part of 
the philosopher to have upheld it as an object in life. 

Curiously enough, another Chinese sage has anticipated 
another of the best points in the doctrine of Jesus. Jesus en- 
joined his hearers not to practice charity in a public and osten- 
tatious manner, like the hypocrites, "but when thou doest alms, 
let not thy left hand know what thy right hand doeth " (Mt. vi, 
3). In this admirable maxim he would have had the support of 
all true Confucians, for one of their canonical writers had also 
told them that "it is the way of the superior man to prefer 
the concealment of his virtue, while it daily becomes more 
illustrious, and it is the way of the mean man to seek notoriety, 
while he daily goes more and more to ruin " (C. C, i. 295. — 
Chung Yung, ch. xxxiii. 1). 

On another question, that of the admonition of an erring 
friend, Jesus gave an opinion which is in perfect accord with 
an opinion given by Confucius. If a man's brother trespass 
against him, he is first, according to Jesus, to take him to task 
in private; should that fail, to call in two or three witnesses 
to hear the charge; and should the offender still be obdurate, 
to inform the Church.* If his impenitence continue even after 
this, he is to become to him "as a heathen and a publican" 
(Ml. xviii. 15-17). Turning to the conversations of Confucius, we 
find the following: — "Tsze-kung asked about friendship. The 
Master said, ' Faithfully admonish your friend, and kindly try 
to lead him. If you find him impracticable, stop. Do not dis- 
grace yourself" i'Lun Yu, b. xii. ch. 33. — C. C, i. 125). The 
step? inculcatpd by the two teachers are, making allowance for 
difiference of country, almost identical. 

The thoughts as well as the language of Jesus are often re- 
produced with singular fidelity in the sacred works of Budd- 
hists. As the Buddha is, on the whole, the prophet whose 
character approaches most closely to that of Jesus, so we are 
almost certain to find in the literature of Buddhism nearly all 
the most exalted features of his ethical teaching. Thus Jesus 
praises the poor widow who contributes her mite to the temple 

* The use of this word casts suspicion on the authenticity of the verse 
where it occurs. 



HIS CHARACTER AND DOCTRINE. 343 

treasury, because she has given all that she had. In one of 
the numerous legends supposed to have been related by Sakya- 
muni an exactly similar incident occurs. A former Buddha was 
traveling through various countries, accompanied by his attend- 
ant monks. The rich householders presented them with all 
kinds of food as offerings. A poor man, who had no property 
whatever, and lived by collecting wood in the mountains and 
selling it, had gained two coins by the pursuit of his industry. 
Perceiving the Buddha coming from a visit to the royal palace, 
he devoutly gave him these two coins; his sole possession in 
the world. The Buddha received them, and mercifully remem- 
bered the donor, who (as Sakyamuni now explained) was richly 
rewarded duriDg ninety-one subsequent ages (W. u. Th., p. 53). 
The widow's mite is no less closely reflected in the following 
anecdote from the same collection. In the time of a former 
Buddha, a certain monk belonging to his train had gone out 
to collect the offerings of the pious. He arrived at the hut 
of a miserable couple, who had nothing between them but 
an old piece of cotton-wool. When the husband went out to 
beg, the wife sat at home naked in the hay; and when the 
wife went out, the husband remained in the same condition. 
To these people then the monk approached, crying out as 
usual, "Go and prostrate yourself before Buddha! present 
him with gifts!" It happened that the wife was wearing the 
cotton-wool on this occasion. She therefore requested the holy 
man to wait a little, promising to return. Hereupon she en- 
tered the house and requested the permission of her husband 
to offer the cotton-wool to Buddha. He, however, pointed out 
that as they had not the smallest property beyond this, extreme 
inconvenience would result from the loss of it, for both of them 
must then remain at home. To this she replied that they must 
needs die in any case, and that their hopes for the future would 
be much improved if they died after presentation of an offer- 
ing. She then returned to the monk, and requested him to turn 
away his eyes a moment. But he told her to give her alms 
openly in her hands, and that he would then recite a benedic- 
tion over them. The full delicacy of her situation had now to 
be explained. '* Except this cotton-wool stuff on my body I 
have nothing, and no other clothing; since, then, it would be 



344 JESUS CHRIST. 

improper for thee to behold the foul-smelling impurity of the 
female body, I will reach thee out the stuff from within. So 
saying she retired into the house and handed out her garment. 
When the monk delivered it to Buddha, it caused great offense 
to the king's courtiers, who surrounded him, on account of its 
being old and dirty. But Buddha, who knew their thoughts, 
said, "I find, that of all the gifts of this assembly, no single 
one surpasses this in cleanliness and purity" (W. u. Th., p. 150). 

Not only in the case of the widow at the treasury did Jesus 
dwell upon the value of even trifling gifts made for the sake 
of religion. Another time he declared to those about him that 
whoever gave them a cup of cold water in his name, because 
they belonged to Christ, would not lose his reward. In Buddhist 
story the very same ideas are to be found; almost the same 
words. An eminent member of the Buddha's circle says that 
** whoever with a purely- believing heart offers nothing but a 
handful of water, or presents so much to the spiritual assembly 
or to his parents, or gives drink therewith to the poor and 
needy, or to a beast of the field;— this meritorious action will 
not be exhausted in many ages" (W. u. Th., p. 37). 

The simile of fishing for men, employed by Jesus in his 
summons to Simon and Andrew, is likewise to be discovered in 
the works of the great Asiatic religion. The images of the 
Boddhisattvas, or Buddhas yet to come, frequently hold in 
their hands a snare, which is thus explained in the Mppon 
Pantheon:—'' He disseminates upon the ocean of birth and decay 
the Lotus-flower of the excellent law as bait; with the loop of 
devotion, never cast out in vain, he brings living beings up like 
fishes, and carries them to the other side of the river, where 
there is true understanding " (B. T., p. 213). And in the book 
from which some illustrations have already been taken, it is 
said of a believer that " he had been seized by the hook of the 
doctrine, just as a fish, who has taken the line, is securely 
pulled out " (W. u. Th., p. lU). 

Hitherto we have noticed a few of the minor points in the 
doctrine of Jesus, and while there has been little in these to 
object to, there has also been Ifr.tle to excite excessive admira- 
tion. The extreme exaltation of humility, and the evident 
anxiety to see, not equality of conditions, but a reversal of the 



HIS CHAKACTER AND DOCTRINE. 345 

actual inequalities, are not among the best features of his ideal 
system. "We cannot but suspect somethinjj of a personal biaa. 
Thus, in the parable of the Pharisee and the publican, aimed 
at a hostile and detested order, the publican is justified by noth- 
ing but his humility; while in that of Lazarus and Dives, Laz- 
arus is eternally rewarded for nothing but his poverty. It is no 
doubt w^ell to be humble, and we should be glad to see poverty 
removed ; but it is not to be assumed that the Pharisee, con- 
scious of leading an honorable life, is therefore a bad man; 
nor that the rich proprietor should be tormented in hell 
merely because he does not give alms to all the beggars who 
throng about his gates. When Jesus desires that virtuous 
actions should be done as quietly and even as secretly as pos- 
sible, he inculcates an important principle of morals, and it is 
devoutly to be wished that we had among us more of this uncon- 
spicuous kindness, and less ostentatious charity. Where, how- 
ever, he preaches on the virtue of bestowing alms on his di&ci- 
ples, he does but echo a sentiment which is natural to religious 
teachers in all ages, and to which, as we have seen, the emissa- 
ries of another and earlier faith, were equally alive. Passing 
from these comparatively trifling questions, let us consider some 
of his decisions on the greater moral problems wiih which he 
felt called upon to deal. 

On a vast social subject — that of divorce — he pronounced an 
opinion which gives us a little insight into his mode of regard- 
ing that most important of all topics, the relations of the sexes. 
The Pharisees, it appears, came to him and asked him whether 
it was permissible for a man to put away his wife, Moses hav- 
ing allowed it. Jesus explained that this precei)t had been 
given for the hardness of their hearts. His own view was, that 
man and wife are one flesh, and that if either should leave the 
other, except on account of unfaithfulness, and marry again, 
that one would be guilty of adultery. This severe doctrine he 
supported by one of his short sayings: **What God hath joined 
together, let not man put asunder" (Mk. x. 1-12; Mt. xix. 1-12;. 
and V. 31, 32). But surely this judgment assumes the very point 
at issue. The joining together in wedlock is ascribed to God; 
the putting asunder to man. But granting the sacredness of 
the marriage tie, it would still be no less possible to invoke the 



346 JESUS CHRIST. 

divine sanction for its dissolution than for its original forma- 
tion. And in many instances the maxim might be exactly- 
reversed. So unfortunate is the result of many marriages, 
that it would be easy for a religious reformer to say of them, 
with perfect sincerity, "What man hath joined together, let 
God put asunder." There is, in fact, almost as much to be said 
on moral grounds for the divorce of unhappy couples as for the 
marriage of happy ones. Nor does Jesus by any means face the 
real difQculties of the question by allowing divorce where either 
of the parties has been guilty of adultery. This, no doubt, is 
the exteme Cdse, and if divorce is not to be given here, it can 
be given nowhere. But why is adultery to be the sole ground 
of separation ? Why is an institution which may bring so much 
happiness to mankind to be converted into one of the most fer- 
tile sources of human misery? Why, when both parties to the 
contract desire separation, is an external authority, whether 
that of opinion or of law, to enforce union ? None of these 
questions appear to have presented themselves to the mind of 
Jesus. Supposing even that his decision were right, he assigns 
no reasons for it, but simply lays down the law in a trenchant 
manner, without giving us the least clue to the process by 
which he arrived at so strange a conclusion. Nor is it in the 
least likely that t?he many perplexities encompassing this, and 
all other questions affecting the morals of sex, had ever troubled 
him. His mind was not sufficiently subtle to enter into them; 
and thus it is that, throughout the whole course of his career, 
he lays down no single doctrine (if we except this one on 
divorce) which can be of the smallest service to his disciples in 
the many practical troubles that must beset their lives from 
the existence of a natural passion of which he takes no account. 
Another weak point in the system of Jesus is his aversion to 
wealth and wealthy men, apart from the consideration of the 
good or bad use they may make of their property. Thus, the 
only advice he gives to the rich man who had kept all the 
commandments was to sell everything he had and give the pro- 
ceeds to the poor ; a measure of very questionable advantage to 
those for whose benefit it is intended. When the man naturally 
declined to take this course — practically a mere throwing off of 
the responsibilities of life — Jesus remarked that it was hard 



HIS CHARACTER AND DOCTRINE. 347 

for those who had riches to enter the kingdom of God. Seeing 
the amazement of his disciples, he emphasized • liis doctrine by 
adding that it was easier for a ca,mel to pass through the eye 
of a needle than for a rich man to enter that kingdom. Here- 
upon his disciples, "excessively astonished," asked who then 
could be saved, and Jesus left a loophole for the salvation of 
the rich by the declaration that, impossible as it might be for 
men to pass a camel through a needle's eye, all things are pos- 
sible with God (Mk. x. 17-27). A like animus against the wealth- 
ier classes is evinced in the story of the king who invited a 
number of guests to a wedding festivity. Those who had received 
invitations made light of them, one going to his farm, another 
to his merchandise, and so forth ; or, according to another ver- 
sion, alleging their worldly affairs as excuses. Seeing that they 
would not come, the king bade his servants go out into the 
highways, and bring in whomsoever they might find; or, as 
Luke puts it, the poor, the maimed, the halt, and the blind 
(Mt. xxii. 1-10; Lu. xiv. 16-24). 

More indiscriminately si ill is this averson to the rich ex- 
pressed in the parable of Lazarus and Dives. Here we are not 
told that the great proprietor had been a bad man, or had acted 
with any unusual selfishness. The utmost we may infer from 
the language used about him is that he had not been sufQciently 
sensitive to the difference between his own condition and that 
of the beggar. But no positive unkindness is even hinted at. 
Nor had the beggar done anything to merit reward. He had 
only led one of those idle and worthless lives of dependence on 
others which are too- common among Southern nations. Yet in 
the future life the beggar appears to be rewarded merely be- 
cause in this life he had been badly off; and the rich man is 
punished merely because he had been well off (Lu. xvi. 19-25). 
A stronger instance of apparently irrational prejudice it would 
be difficult to find. 

In connection with these notions about wealth there is a 
curious theory of social intercourse deserving to be considered. 
Jesus has expressed it thus : " When thou makest a supper or a 
dinner, do not invite thy friends, or thy brothers, or thy rela- 
tions, or thy rich neighbors, lest they also should invite thee in 
return, and thou shouldst have a recompense. But when thou 



348 JESUS CHRIST. 

makest a feast, invite the poor, the maimed, the lame, the 
blind; and thou shalt be blessed because they have not the 
means of making thee a recompense. For thou shalt be rec- 
ompensed at the resurrection of the just " (Lu. xiv. 12-14), No- 
body can object to charitable individuals asking poor people or 
invalids without rank to dinner at their houses; indeed, it is to 
be wished that the practice were more common than it is. But 
we cannot admit that this kind action ought to be rendered ob- 
ligatory, to the exclusion of other modes of conduct. Society, 
properly speaking, cannot exist except by reciprocity. That 
sort of friendly intercourse between equals which constitutes 
society implies giving and taking; and it is eminently desir- 
able that we should do exactly what Christ would forbid us 
doing, namely, invite our neighbors and be invited by them, as 
circumstances may lequire. The fear that we may receive a 
recompense for the dinner-parties we may give is surely chimer- 
ical. Pleasantness and mutual advantage are alike promoted by 
this reciprocity, which, moreover, avoids the discomfort pro- 
duced when the obligation is wholly on one side. Jesus, in 
fact, overlooks entirely the more intellectual side of society, 
and dwells exclusively on the moral side. What he wishes to 
establish, is not converse between men, but charity. So that a 
person acting on his views would be excluded from the society 
of those who might benefit him either materially or morally, 
and would be confined to those whom he might benefit. Such 
an arrangement would not in the end be good either for the 
benefactors or the benefited. 

His conceptions of justice are seemingly not more perfect than 
his conceptions of social arrangements. The parable of the la- 
borers is intended to justify the deity in assigning equal rewards 
to those who have borne unequal burdens, and also to illustrate 
his doctrine that the first will be last, and the last first. A 
householder hires a number of laborers to work in his vineyard ; 
some of whom he engages in the morning, others later in the 
day, others towards its close. All of them receive a denarium 
in payment, though some had worked the whole day, and others 
only an hour. At this result the class which had worked the 
longer time grumble; but the householder defends himself by 
appealing to the strict terms of his contract, by which he had 



HIS CHARACTEE AND DOCTRINE. 349 

bound himself to give the same wages to all (Ml. xx. 1-16). No 
doubt the laborers who had borne the burden and heat of the 
day had no legal standing-point for their complaint; but the 
sentiment that prompted it was none the less a just one. Grant- 
ing the validity of the master's plea that he had honorably ful- 
filled his bargain, it may still be urged that the bargain itself 
was not of an equitable character. Plainly, a sum V7hich is ad- 
equate pay for an hour, is inadequate for ten or twelve; and 
that which is sufficient for a day is excessive for an evening. 
And the same argument applies to a future state. If, as is so 
often urged, it is to be a compensation for the sufferings of this 
state, then it ought to bear some proportion to those sufferings. 
But how can this be effected? Jesus saw the difficulty, and 
endeavored, but not successfully, to meet it by this parable. 

But the imperfection of his sense of justice is nowhere more 
conspicuously shown than in the conduct he ascribes to God. 
To recur again to the case of Lazarus and Dives. Not only is 
the rich man punished with frightful torture, but his humble 
and kindly request that Lazarus might be allowed to warn his 
five brothers of their possible fate is met with a peremptory 
refusal. The only reason alleged for this cruelty is that they 
have Moses and the prophets, who certainly did not inform 
them that the mere possession of wealth or enjoyment of luxury 
was punished by everlasting misery (Lu. xvi. 27-31), In other 
places, too, the horrible doctrine of unending punishment is 
asserted by Jesus, and all the efforts of his modern disciples 
■will not explain away this fact. The tares are to be bound up 
in bundles to be burnt. The wicked are to be cast into a fur- 
nace of fire, where there will be wailing and gnashing of teeth 
(Mt. xiii. 30, 42, 50). It is better to enter into life mutilated than 
to be thrown unmutilated into the fire (Mt. xviii. 8, 9) of hell 
which is never quenched (Mk. ix. 43-46). The servant who had 
made no money by usury is cast into outer darkness (Mt. xxv. 
30). The righteous go into eternal life ; the wicked to eternal 
punishment (Mt. xxv. 46). Blasphemy against the Holy Ghost 
cannot be forgiven, but involves eternal damnation (Mk. iii. 29). 
It is almost needless to observe that no wickedness could ever 
justify punishment without an end; that is, punishment for 
punishment's sake; and that the creation of human beings 



350 JESUS CHRIST. 

whose existence terminated in torture would be itself a far more 
terrible crime than any which the basest of mankind can ever 
commit. 

There is one more point as to which his teaching will not 
bear inve:-tigation. It is the doctrine of the power of prayer. 
He tells his hearers, in the most absolute manner, that they 
will receive whatever they may ask in prayer, provided they 
believe (Mk. xi. 24; Mt. xxi. 22). Faith is the grand and sole 
condition of the accomplishment of all" desires. This is the ex- 
planation of the withered fig-tree. It was faith that had wrought 
the change. By faith the disciples might effect not only such 
matters as the destruction of fig-trees, but far more stupendous 
miracles (Mt. xxi. 19-21). This is the explanation of the disci- 
ples' failure with the lunatic child. It was owing to their want 
of faith. Had they but faith as a grain of mustard seed -^ so 
Jesus told them — they would be able to say to a mountain, 
"Remove hence thither," and it would be removed. Nothing 
would be impossible to them (Mt. xvii. 20). And if they had 
faith themselves, if they really believed in their master's words, 
and ever attempted the experiment of working such transfor- 
mations in nature, they must have experienced the bitter disap- 
pointment so graphically described by the authoress of *' Joshua 
Davidson " in the case of that sincere (Jhristian. But short of 
this extreme trial of the power of faith over matter, many gen- 
erations of pious believers will bear sad witness to the fact that 
they have asked man.y things in prayer which they have not 
received; not least among the number being moral excellence, 
which they have but imperfectly attained. Yet this, it would 
seem, might be the most easily granted without interference 
with the physical universe. And if it be pleaded that no Chris- 
tian has ever really succeeded in acquiring the degree of faith 
required to move mountains, what becomes of the promise of 
Jesus ? Is it not a mere form of words, depending for its truth 
on a condition which human nature never can fulfill ? 

The opinions of Jesus on the question of the lawfulness of 
the tribute, and his reply to the Sadducean difflculty about due 
adjustment of matrimonial relations in a future state, have been 
already noticed. Neither of these decisions, it has been shown, 
can be regarded as evincing wisdom or depth of thought. On 



HIS CHARACTER AND DOCTRINE. 351 

the other hand, his answer to the scribe who asked him which 
was the first commandment fully deserves the approbation 
which his questioner bestowed. After this, remarlis the Evan- 
gelist triumphantly, no man dared to interrogate him. Passing 
from these isolated judgments, let us consider now the fullest 
exposition to be found anywhere of the moral system of Jesus,— 
the so-called Sermon on the Mount (Mt. v.-vii. inclusive). As 
reported by Matthew, this is a vast collection of precepts on 
many different subjects, delivered no doubt on many different 
occasions. Taken together, they contain the concentrated 
essence of his teaching, and offer therefore the fairest field for 
discussion and criticism. He opens his discourse with a series 
of blessings, in which his extreme fondness for contrasting the 
present with the future order is markedly exhibited. Those 
whom he selects as the objects of benediction are the poor in 
spirit; mourners; the meek; those who hunger and thirst 
after righteousness ; the merciful ; the pure in heart ; the peace- 
makers; those who are persecuted for righteousness' sake; the 
disciples when reviled, persecuted, and unjustly accused. Of the 
nine classes of those who are thus blessed, five are composed 
of those whose present condition makes them objects of pity,' 
and who are consoled with the assurance that they shall be 
rewarded in the kingdom of heaven. After this, the followers 
of Jesus are admonished that they are the salt of the earth, 
and that they must cause their light to shine before men. This 
is followed by that remarkable declaration (already noticed) as 
to the permanence of the law, and by a warning that, if they 
wished to enter the kingdom of heaven, their righteousness 
must exceed that of those odious people, the scribes and Phar- 
isees. 

Hereupon Jesus takes up three great commandments — not to 
kill, not to commit adultery, not to commit perjury— and pro- 
ceeds to expand their meaning beyond the literal signification 
of the words. Thus, it had been said, "Thou shalt not kill." 
But he says, that whoever is angry with his brother shall be 
liable to the judgment; that whoever says "Raka" to his 
brother shall be liable to the Sanhedrim; but that whoever 
says "Fool," shall be liable to hell, or literally, to ''the 
gehenna of fire." The punishment is of undue severity in pro- 



352 JESUS CHRIST. 

portion to the offense ; but when, in the following verses, Jesus 
insists on the importance of doing justice to men before per- 
forming religious obligations, he speaks in the truest spirit of 
humanity, Proceeding to the commandment not to commit 
adultery, he enjoins an excess of self-disci[)line. It fs not desir- 
able to pluck out the right eye and cut off the right hand 
because they offend us, though it is well to train them to obey 
the higher faculties. The argument of Jesus rests only on the 
assumption that the sinful members, if not destroyed by such 
violent measures as this, may land the whole body in hell. 
Dealing next with the question of oaths, he enlarges the pro- 
hibition of perjury into a prohibition of all swearing whatsoever, 
assigning the strangest reasons for avoiding the employment, 
when taking oaths, of the names of various objects. They are 
not to swear by heaven, because it is God's throne ; nor by the 
earth, because it is his footstool; nor by Jerusalem, because it 
is the city of the great king; nor by the head, because we can- 
not make a single hair b ack or white. Granting even that the 
advice is good, what is to be said of these reasons? What 
would be thought of a Member of Parliament using an exactly 
parallel argument: n-amely, that it is wrong to swear by the 
New Testament, because the person taking the oath cannot 
make a single type larger or smaller? 

The theory embodied in the following verses occupies so 
cardinal a place in the philosophy of Jesus, that in order to do 
him justice they must be quoted at length. **You have heard 
that it has been said. An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth. 
But I tell you not to resist evil; but whoever shall smite thee 
on the right cheek, turn to him the other also. And as for him 
who wishes to sue thee, and take thy coat, give him thy cloak 
also. And whoever shall compel thee to go one mile, go two 
with him. Give to him that asketh thee; and turn not away 
from him that wishes to borrow of thee. You have heard that 
it has been said. Thou shalt love thy neighbor and hate thine 
enemy. But I say unto you, Love your enemies, and pray for 
them who persecute you, that you may be sons of your father 
in heaven; for he causes his sun to rise on bad and good, and 
sends rain on just and unjust" (Mt. v. 88-45). 

Perhaps there is no single point in the moral teaching of 



HIS CHARACTER AND DOCTRINE. 353 

Jesus which has been more celebrated than this. It is thought 
to represent the very acme of perfection, and Christianity takes 
credit to itself for the embodiment of so magnificent a doctrine 
in its moral system. And certainly the words of Jesus are so 
sublime as almost to extort admiration and disarm criticism. 
Nor would it at all detract from his merits if the principle here 
laid down should turn out to be no new discovery of his own, 
but one already reached by great teachers in other lands; for 
it was through him that it was made known to the Jews of his 
own age, and thus to the whole of Christendom. Moreover, we 
cannot suppose that he had ever heard of those who had antici- 
pated the sentiments, and almost the words, of these beautiful 
sentences ia the Sermon on the Mount. Nevertheless, these 
anticipations exist; and whatever glory this rule may confer on 
the religion of Christ must belong equally, and even by prior 
right, to the religion of Lao-tsze and the religion of Buddha. 
Thus Lao-tsze says, "Keturn enmity by doing good" (T. t. k., 
63). Or again, " I treat the good man well ; the man who is 
not good I also treat well" (Ibid., 49). The very perfection of 
patience under injustice, extending to the length of blessing 
those who curse, and turniDg the other cheek to those who 
smite the one — is exhibited in the old Buddhistic legend of 
Puma. Purna is a convert who spontaneously betakes himself as 
a missionary to a savage nation. The Buddha asks him what he 
will do if they address him in coarse and insolent language. 
He replies that he will consider them good and gentle people 
not to strike him with their fists or stone him. Should they 
strike him with their fists or stone him, he will still think them 
good and gentle neither to strike him with sticks or swords; 
should they strike him with sticks or swords, he will equally 
praise them for not killing him; should they even kill him, he 
will still say, "They are certainly good people, they are cer- 
tainly gentle people, they who deliver me with so little pain 
from this body full of impurity" (H. B. I., p. 253). This is cer- 
tainly a most consistent application of the principle of non- 
resistance to evil, and of loving one's enemies. No Christian 
saint or martyr could have followed his master's precepts more 
faithfully than this Buddhist apostle. But whether those pre- 
cepts admit of general adoption into the scheme of human 



351 JESUS CHRIST. 

morals is a much more difficult question than whether in occa- 
sional instances here and there they have led to admirable con- 
duct. Let us call in another Chinese philosopher to our assist- 
ance on this point. 

The doctrine of returning good for evil, proclaimed, as we 
have seen, by Lao-tsze, was thus dealt with by his great rival, 
Confucius. "Some one said, 'What do you say concerning the 
principle tliat injury should be recompensed with kindness?' 
The Master said, ' With what, then, will you recompense kind- 
ness ? Eecompense injury with justice, and recompense kind- 
ness with kindness.'" How shall we decide between these 
authorities ? None can question the nobility of the conduct 
enjoined by Jesus in certain instances. There are cases where 
the return of good for evil, of blessing for cursing, of benevo- 
lence for persecution, is not only the highest practicable virtue, 
but also the best punishment of the evil-doers. Nevertheless, 
there is great force in the observations of Confucius. If we are 
to reward injury by kindness, how are we to reward kindness ? 
Is there to be no difference made between those who do us 
good and those who do us harm ? To so pertinent a question 
we are compelled to answer that the practical results of such 
conduct on our part would be simply disastrous. Unkindness 
would not receive its natural and appropriate penalty, i or kind- 
ness its natural and appropriate reward. Not only should we 
ourselves be losers by our- failure to resist injustice, bat the 
worst classes of mankind would receive by that non-resistance 
a powerful stimulus to evil. Imagine, for example, that, in- 
stead of opposing an extortionate claim, we give up our cloak 
also to the man who wishes to take our coat. Plainly such 
conduct can have but one result. We shall become the victims 
of extortionate claims, and our property will be squandered 
among the undeserving instead of being kept for better uses. 
Or suppose that persecution for the sake of our opinions, In- 
stead of being met with armed resistance, wherever that resist- 
ance is likely to be successful, is received only with blessings 
showered on the heads of the oppressors; without doubt, the 
hands of the persecuting party will be strengthened, and lib- 
erty, which is everywhere the result of resisting evil, will never 
be established. The freedom we ourselves enjoy, both as a 



HIS CHARACTER AND DOCTRINE. 355 

nation in respect of other nations, and as individuals in respect 
of our domestic government, is the consequence of actiug on a 
principle the direct reverse of that laid down by Jesus. Our 
ancestors, who were good Christains but much better patriots, 
would have been amazed indeed at any attempt to persuade 
them to turn the left cheek to him who smote them on the 
right. A doctrine more convenient for the purposes of tyrants 
and malefactors of every description it would be difficult to 
invent. 

At the same time it must be conceded that there is in it 
some truth, provided we discriminate between fitting and un- 
fitting occasions for its application. It is not the violent man 
who assaults us, the unscrupulous man who sues us, or the per- 
secutor who tramples on our freedom, who should be met by a 
benevolent return. But there are offenses of so personal a 
nature, affecting our individual interest so largely, and the pub- 
lic interest so slightly, that the best way of dealing with them 
may often be not to resent them, but to receive them with un- 
ruffled gentleness. Each person must judge for himself what 
are the cases to which this possibility applies. But the guiding 
rule in thus acting must be that we expect by thus returning 
good for evil to soften the heart of him who has done us 
wrong, and in the language of Paul to "heap coals of fire on 
his head." Should the effect be simply to relieve him from the 
penalty of our resentment without inducing him to change his 
course, we shall have done him a moral injury and society a 
material injury, and the probability or improbability of such 
result should be measured in deciding upon the conduct to be 
pursued. Properly guarded, and borne in mind as the occa- 
sional exception, by no means as the rule, the return of injustice 
or ill-will by benevolence and kindly feeling may be of the 
utmost value, both in cultivating the best emotions in those 
who practice it, and in calling forth the repeptance of those 
towards whom it is practiced; but as a universal and absolute 
principle it must be utterly rejected. Lao-tsze and Jesus when 
they affirmed it undoubtedly struck one of the highest notes in 
human nature. Yet it must be granted that Khung-tsze took a 
wider view, and that his injunction to recompense injury with 
justice, and kindness with kindness, is more consistent with a 



356 JESUS CHKIS1?. 

philosophic regard for the interests of mankind, and with a 
practicable scheme of social ethics. 

Jesus proceeds to enjoin his disciples neither to give alms, 
nor to praj^ nor to fast in an ostentatious manner; and in con- 
nection with this excellent advice he teaches them the short 
prayer which has become so famous under his name. The 
clauses of this prayer may be worth some consideration. It 
begins with a formula of adoration addressed to "Our father in 
heaven." Then follows a petition full of meaning to Jesus and 
those to whom he imparted it, but of little or no signification 
in the mouths of the millions of modern Christians who daily 
repeat it: "Thy kingdom come." Jesus hoped, and his disci- 
ples caught the hope, that God's kingdom would come very 
soon; and this prayer was a request for the early realization of 
the glories of that kingdom. Those who then employed it be- 
lieved that at any moment it might be granted, and that at no 
distant period it certainly would be granted. "Thy will be 
done, as in heaven so also on earth;" a clause embodying the 
popular conception of another region in which God's will is 
perfectly obeyed, while here it is met by some counteracting 
influence. "Give us this day our daily bread," for beyond the 
daily provision they were not to look; a doctrine which we 
shall notice shortly. "And forgive us our debts " (or, in Luke, 
our sins) "as we forgive our debtors; and lead us not into 
temptation, but deliver us from evil." Passing over the singu- 
lar conception of God as leading men into temptation, let us 
rather notice the preceding petition, on which Jesus himself has 
•supplied a commentary, that we may be forgiven, as we forgive 
others. In reference to this he tells his hearers, that if they 
forgive men their trespasses, their heavenly father will forgive 
theirs; and that if they do not thus behave, neither will he. 
A kindred doctrine is laid down in the beginning of the next 
chapter, where he tells them not to judge, that they may not 
be judged; that with what measure they mete, it shall be meas- 
ured to them again. And this illustrated in another place by 
the parable of the servant who, having been excused from the 
immediate payment of a large debt by his master, refused to 
excuse a fellow-servant from the payment of a small one; 
whereupon his master flew into a passion, and '* delivered him 



HIS CHARACTER AND DOCTRINE. 357 

to the tormentors" (Mt. xviii. 23-35). There is an appcuent juy- 
tic and real emotional satisfaction in the harsh treatment of 
those who are harsh themselves. But we must not be misled 
by the immediate gratification we experience at the punishment 
of the unforgiving servant, supposing that it is right to mete 
out to each man the measure he metes out to others. Assuredly 
it does not follow that because a man is unjust or cruel, he 
should be treated with injustice or cruelty himself. Either it is 
right to forgive a man's sins, or it is not. If right, then his 
own harshness in refusing forgiveness to another is one of the 
sins which should be forgiven. If not right, then neither that 
nor any other offense should be forgiven by the supreme dis- 
penser of justice. For what reason should the one crime of not 
forgiving those who trespass against us be selected for a pun- 
1 hment of such extraordinary severitj^ while it is implied that 
the penalty of other and graver crimes may by God's mercy be 
remitted ? The fact is, that Jesus is misled by a false analogy 
between the conduct of one man towards another, in a case 
where he is personally concerned, and the conduct of a judge 
towards criminals. Offenses against morality are treated as per- 
sonal offenses against God, who has therefore the same right to 
forgive them as a creditor has to excuse his debtor from pay- 
ment. But in a perfect system of justice, human or divine, 
there could be no question of forgiveness at all. Every viola- 
tion of the law would bring its appropriate penalty, and no 
more. The penalty being thus proportioned to the offense, there 
could be no question of that sort of "forgiveness" which im- 
plies a suspicion that it is, or may be, too severe. No doubt, 
the temper of the offender, and the probability of his repeating 
the crime, would be elements to be considered in awarding the 
sentence. But it must always be borne in mind that either the 
hope of complete pardon, or the threat ot a punishment far 
heavier than is needed to deter, equally tend to neutralize the 
effects of our system of justice. And thus it has been in Chris- 
tendom. Tne threat of everlasting torture, accompanied with 
the expectation of complete forgiveness, has been less efBca- 
cious than would have been the most moderate of earthly pen- 
alties, provided they had been certain. But Jesus was encum- 
bered with a system in which there were no gradations. Thu^ 



358 JESUS CHBIST. 

he represents the deity now as extending complete forgiveness 
to sins which should have received their fitting retribution ; now 
as visiting with immoderate severity offenses for which more 
lenient measures would have amply suflaced. 

Proceeding to another subject, the speaker dwells upon the 
cgmparative unimportance of terrestrial affairs. He advises 
men not to lay up treasure on earth, but in heaven, for where 
their treasure is, there will their heart be also; and he goes 
on to say, ** Take no thought for your life what you shall eat 
or what you shall drink, nor for your bodv what you shall put 
on. Is not the life more than nourishmeut, and the body than 
raiment? Look at the birds of the sky, for they sow not, 
neither do they reap nor gather into barns, and your heavenly 
father feeds them. Are you not much better than they ? And 
which of you by taking thought can add a single cubit to his 
stature ? And why do you take thought for raiment ? Consider 
the lilies of the field, they toil not, neither do they spin : and 
I say to you that not even Solomon in all his glory was clothed 
like one of these. And if God so clothe the grass of the field 
which exists to-day and to-morrow is cast into the oven, will he 
not mucLi more clothe you, O you of little faith ? " Therefore 
his disciples are to take no thought about eating, drinking, or 
clothing (as the Gentiles do), for their heavenly father knows 
that they have need of these things. They are to seek the 
kingdom of God and his righteousness, and these will be added. 
They are to take no thought for the morrow, but let the mor- 
row take thought fdr itself (Mt. vi. 25-34). Upon which extra- 
ordinary argument it would have been interesting to ask a few 
questions. In the first place, how did Jesus suppose that it 
had happened that men had in fact come to trouble themselves 
about food, drink, and clothing ? Did he imagine that an in- 
herent pleasure in labor had driven them to do so ? Would he 
not rather have been compelled to admit that, not by any 
choice of their own, but just because their heavenly father had 
not provided these things in the requisite abundance, they had 
been forced to "take thought" for the morrow; all their prim- 
itive inclinations notwithstanding ? Every tendency of human 
nature would have prompted men to take no thought either for 
food or raiment, had not hunger and cold brought vividly be- 



HIS CHABACTER AND DOCTRINE. 359 

fore them the necessity of doing so. But for this they would 
only have been too glad to live like the birds of the air or the 
lilies of the field. But let us examine a little more closely the 
reasoning of Jesus. Birds neither sow nor reap; God feeds 
them ; therefore he will feed us without sowing or reaping. A 
more unfortunate illustration of the care of Providence for his 
creatures it would be difficult to find. Was Jesus ignorant of 
the fact that he feeds some birds upon others whom they seize 
on as their prey, and these again upon an inferior class of ani- 
mals? So that, if he is careful of the hawk, it is at the expense 
of the dove ; and if he is careful of the sparrow, it is at the 
expense of the worm. Cannibalism, or at least a recourse to 
wild animals as the only obtainable diet, must have been the 
logical results of the doctrine of Jesus. Not less singular would 
be the efTects of his teaching as to clothes. The lily which re- 
mains in a state of nature is more beautifully arrayed than was 
Solomon. Granted; but does it therefore follow that we are to 
imitate the lily ? We might agree with Jesus that nudity, alike 
in flowers and in human beings, is more beautiful than the 
most superb dressing: yet there are conveniences in clothes 
which may even justify taking a little thought in order to obtain 
them, and those who really omit to do this are generally the 
lowest types of the human race. That God would not give us 
clothing if we ourselves made no effort to obtain it, is not only 
admitted, but almost asserted, in the argument of Jesus; for 
he refers us to the grass of the field, which remains in its nat- 
ural condition, as an example of the kind of raiment which our 
heavenly father provides. So absurd are these precepts, that 
no body of Christians has ever attempted to act upon them. 
Some there have been, indeed, who took no thought for the 
morrow, and who never exerted themselves to procure the 
necessaries of life. But then they lived in the midst of societies 
where these things were provided by the labor of others, and 
where they well knew that their pious indolence would not 
leave them a prey to hunger, but would rather stimulate the 
charitable zeal of their more secular brethren. 

After laying down the rule against judging others, which has 
been already referred to, Jesus gives the excellent advice to 
those who would pull the mote out of their brother's eye to 



360 JESUS CHBIST. 

attend first to the beam in their own. This is foUovved hy th3 
proverbial warning not to cast pearls before swine. A singular 
passage succeeds, in which the doctrine is broadly stated that 
whatever men desire of God they are to ask it, "f<?r every one 
who asks receives, and he who seeks finds." And it is added, 
that as they give their children good gifuS, so their heavenly 
father gives good things to those who ask liim. But what of 
those who do not ask him ? Does he, Uiie an unwise human 
parent, give most to those who are the loudest in their petitions, 
neglecting the humble or retiring children who make no noise ? 
These verses allow us no option but to suppose that Jesus 
thought he did, and this inference receives strong confirmation 
from the parable of the unjust judge, who yielded to clamor 
what he would not give from a sei.se of justice (Lu. xviii. 1-5), 
as also from the illustration of Ciie man who was wearied by 
the importunity of his friend into doing what he would not have 
done for the sake of friendship (Ira. xi. 5-9). In the former case, 
the parable is related for the express purpose of showing **that 
men ought always to pray and not to faint ; " in the latter, the 
illustration is given in connoutlon with the very verses which 
we are now criticising. There is, then, no escape from the con- 
clusion that the conceptioAs Jesus had of the deity were of a 
nature to lead to the belief that God might be worried by con- 
tinual prayer into concessions and favors which would not other- 
wise have been granted. 

Excepting a single verse, the remainder of the sermon is 
occupied with a warning tnat the way to life is narrow, that to 
destruction broad ; with a caution against false prophets, and a 
very fine description of the future rejection from heaven of 
many who have made loud professions of religion, and contra- 
riwise, of the reception of those who have done their father's 
will, and whom he likens to one who has built his house upon 
the solid rock as distinguished from one who has built it on 
the sand. One verse, however, remains, and that not only the 
most important in the whole of this discourse, but ethically the 
most important in the whole of its author's system. That verse 
is the well-known commandment: '*A11 things whatsoever you 
may wish men to do to you, thus also do you to them. For 
this is the law and the prophets " (Mt, vii, 12 ; Lu. vi. 31). 



HIS CHARACTER AND DOCTRINE. 361 

"Whether Jesus perceived that in this brief sentence ,he was 
enunciating the cardinal principle of all morality is of necessity 
uncertain. But from the addition of the phrase *' this is the 
law and the prophets," it is probable that he regarded it as a 
summary of the moral teachings of the religion he professed. 
If so, he has rightly laid the foundation of scientific ethics. 
Utilitarians, who believe that the object of morality is human 
happiness, may claim him (as one of them has already done) as 
the father of their system. "While Kant, who gives the funda- 
mental law, so to act that the rule of your conduct may be 
such as you yourself would wish to see adopted as a general 
principle, will be equally in agreement with him. Nor does it 
detract from the merits of Jesus that this very doctrine should 
have been announced in China about five centuries before he 
proclaimed it in Judea. He remains not less original; but we, 
while giving him his due, must be careful to award an equal 
tribute to his great predecessor, Confucius. Twice over did 
that eminent man assert the principle taught in the Ser- 
mon on the Mount. In the first instance, *' Chung-kung 
asked about perfect virtue. The Master said, * It is, when you 
go abroad, to behave to every one as if you were receiving a 
great guest; to employ the people as if you were assisting at a 
great sacrifice ; not to do to others as you would not wish done to 
yourself; to have no murmuring against you in the country, and 
none in the family'" (C. C, vol. i. p. 115.— Lun Yu, xii. 2). 
Much more strikingly is this law enunciated in the second case. 
"Tsze-kung asked, saying, 'Is there one word which may serve 
as a rule of practice for all one's life?' The Master said, 'Is 
not RECIPROCITY such a word ? What you do not want done to 
yourself, do not do to others'" (C. C, vol. i. p. 165.— Lun Yu, 
XV. 23). And we have another statement of the rule in the work 
ascribed to the grandson of Confucius, where he is reported to 
have said, "What you do not like when done to yourself, do 
not do to others" (Chung Yung, xiii. 3.— C. C, vol. i. p. 258). It is 
true, as remarked by the translator, that the doctrine is here 
stated negatively, and not positively; but practically this can 
make little difference in its application. Not to do to others 
what we wish them not to do to us would amount to nearly the 
same thing as doing what we wish them to dq. Obviously it 



362 JESUS CHRIST. 

prohibits, all actual injury which we should resent if inflicted on 
ourselves. But it also enjoins active benevolence ; for as we do 
not like the lack of kindness towards ourselves when in distress 
or want, so we must not be guilty of showing such lack of kind- 
ness to others. Take the parable of the good Samaritan, told 
in illustration of the kindred maxim to love our neighbors as 
ourselves. Plainly we should not like the conduct of the priest 
and the Levite were we in the situation of the plundered man. 
And if so, the behavior of the good Samaritan is that which 
the Chinese as well as the Jewish prophet would require us to 
pursue. 

Much more might be said of the doctrines of Jesus, but it is 
time to bring this over-long section to a close. What answer 
shall we now return to the query which stands at the head of 
this final division. What are we to think of him ? Is our judg- 
ment to be mainly favorable or mainly unfavorable ? or must 
it be a mixture of opposing sentiments? The reply may be 
given under three separate heads, relating the one to his work 
as a prophet, the next to his intellectual, and the last to his 
moral character. Considered as a prophet, he forms one of a 
mighty triad who divide among them the honor of having 
given their religions to the larger portion of Asia and to the 
whole of Europe. Confucius, to whom Eastern Asia owes its 
most prevalent faith ; Buddha Sakyamuni, whose faith is 
accepted in the south and centre of that continent ; and Christ, 
to whom Europe bows the knee, are the members of this great 
trinity not in unity. All three are alike in their possession of 
prophetic ardor and prophetic inspiration. Two of them, the 
Chinaman and the Jew, speak as the conscious agents of a 
higher Power. The other, of whom his creed prevents us from 
saying this, is yet represented in his story as predestined to a 
great mission, becoming aware of that destiny at a certain 
epoch of his life, and thenceforth feeling that no temptations 
and no sufferings can induce him to swerve from his allotted 
task. Of these three men it would perhaps be accurate to say 
that Confucius was the most thoughtful, Sakyamuni the most 
eminently virtuous, and Christ the most deeply religious. Not 
that a description like this can be regarded as exhaustive. 
Each trespasses to some degree on the special domain of the 



HIS CHARACTER AND DOCTRINE. 363 

others. Especially is it hard to compare the moral excellence 
of Jesus with that of Buddha. The Hindu, as depicted in his 
biographies, offers a character of singular beauty, and free 
from some of the defects which may be discerned in that of 
the Jew. History, however, was too much despised by these 
Oriental sectaries to enable us to form a trustworthy compar- 
ison. All we can affirm is, that, assuming the pictures of both 
prophets to be correctly drawn, there is in Sakyamuni a purity 
of toue, an absence of violence or rancor, an exemption from 
personal feelin-^ and from hostile bias, which place him even on 
a higher level than his Jewish fellow-prophet. Supposing, on 
the other hand, that either picture is not historical, then it 
must be conceded that primitive Buddhism attained a more 
perfect ideal of goodness than primitive Christianity. Both 
ideals, however, are admirable, and they closely resemble one 
another. 

Morally not unlike, Jesus and Sakyamuni have another 
point of similarity in a certain mournfulness of spirit, a sor- 
rowing regret for the errors of human kind, and a tender anx- 
iety to summon them from those errors to a better way. Each 
in his own manner felt that life was very sad; each desired to 
relieve that sadness, though each aimed at effecting his end by 
different means. Sakyamuni offered to his disciples the peace 
of Nirvana; Jesus, the favor of God and the rewards to be given 
in his kingdom. There is a striking similarity in the manher 
in which the summons to suffering humanity is expressed in 
each religion. Here are the words ascribed to Buddha: "Many, 
driven by fear, seek an asylum in mountains and in woods, in 
hermitages and in the neighborhood of sacred trees. But 
it is not the best asylum, it is not the best refuge, and it is not 
in that asylum that men are delivered from every pain. He, on 
the contrary, who seeks a refuge in Buddha, in the Law and in 
the Assembly, when he perceives with wisdom the four sublime 
truths, .... that man knows the best asylum, the best 
refuge ; as soon as he has reached it, he is delivered from every 
pain " (H. B. I., 186). Still more beautifully is the like senti- 
ment expressed by Jesus: "Come unto me, all ye that labor 
and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke 
upon you and learn of me, for I am meek and lowly of heart. 



364 JESUS CHRIST. 

and you shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy 
and my burden is light " (Mt. xi. 28-30). 

While in tenderness and sympathy for human sorrow Christ 
resembles Buddha, in the nature of his moral precepts he some- 
times resembles Confucius. The plain duties of man towards 
his fellow-man are inculcated in the same spirit by both, while 
in Buddhism it is generally the most extreme and often pro- 
digious examples of charity or self-sacrifice that are held up to 
admiration. Buddhism, moreover, teaches by means of long 
stories ; Confucius and Jesus by means of short maxims. To a 
certain extent, indeed, Jesus combines both methods, the first 
being represented in his parables; but these are much simpler, 
and go far more directly to the point, than the complicated 
narratives of the Buddhistic canon. On the whole, we may 
safely say that Jesus is certainly not surpassed by either of 
these rival prophets, and that in some respects, if not in all, 
he surpasses both. 

Another comparison is commonly made, and may be just 
touched on here. It is that between the Hebrew prophet and 
the Athenian sage, '*who," in the words of Byron, "lived and 
died as none can live or die." Without fully endorsing this 
emphatic opinion of the poet, we may admit that Socrates in 
not unworthy to stand beside Jesus in the foremost rank of the 
heroes of our race. He shares with the prophets who have been 
already named the inspiring sense of a divine mission which- 
he is bound to fulfill. At all hazards and under all conditions 
he will carry on the special and peculiar work which the divine 
voice commands him to do. And this plenary belief in his own 
inspiration ib not accompanied, as sometimes happens, by men- 
tal poverty. Intellectually his superiority to Jesus cannot be 
disputed. It is apparent in the very manner of his instruction. 
Socrates could never have enunciated the truths he had to tell 
in that authoritative tone which is appropriate to the religious 
teacher. Whatever knowledge he thinks it possible to acquire 
at all must be acquired by reasoning and inquiry ; and must be 
tested by comparison of our own mental condition with that of 
others. Nothing must be assumed but what is granted by the 
hearer. Socrates would have thought that there was little 
gained by the mere dogmatic assertion of moral or spiritual 



HIS CHABA.CTER AND DOCTRINE. 365 

truths. He must carry his interlocutor along with him; must 
compel him to admit his errors ; must stimulate his desire of 
improvement by bringing him face to face with his own ignor- 
ance. Much as we must value the moral teaching of Christ, it 
must be confessed that the peculiar gift of Socrates is one of a 
far rarer kind. The power of inculcating holiness, purity, char- 
ity, and other virtues, either directly by short maxims (as in 
the Confucian Analects, in Mencius, or in Marcus Aurelius), or 
indirectly by stories (as in Buddhagosha's parables), is by no 
means so uncommon as the Socratic gift of searching examiua- 
tian into men's minds and souls. If Jesus is unsurpassed in the 
former — " primus inter pares" — Socrates is absolutely without 
a rival in the latter. 

Whether the shock of the elenchus of Socrates, or the touch- 
ing beauty of the parables and the Sermon on the Mount, pro- 
duced the greatest benefit to the hearers is a question that can 
hardly be determined. The effect of either method must depend 
upon the character of those to whom it is applied. Outward 
appearances would lead us to assign more influence to the method 
of Jesus ; for Socrates left no Socratics, while Christ did leave 
Christians to hand on his doctrine. But, in the first place, it 
may be confidently asserted that no lasting sect could have been 
formed upon the basis of the few truths taught by Jesus him- 
self; and, in the second place, the fact that he became the 
founder of a new religion must be attributed as much to the 
state of Judea at the time as to his personal influence. That 
the influence of Socrates was not small in his own life-time 
might be inferred from the bitterness of the prosecution alone, 
even if Plato had not remained to attest the abiding impress he 
left upon an intellect by the side of which those of Peter, 
James, and John, are but as little children to a full-grown 
athlete. We can imagine the havoc that would have been made 
in the statements and arguments of Jesus had Socrates met him 
face to face and subjected him to his testing method. How ill 
would his loose popular notions have borne a close examination 
of their foundations; how easily would his dogmatic assertions 
have been exposed in all their naked presumption by a few sim- 
ple questions; how quickly would his careless reasoning have 
been shattered by the dialectic art which would have forced 



366 JESUS CHRIST. 

hftn to exhibit its fallacies himself before the assembled audi- 
ence! But there was no one competent to the task, and when 
his opponents attempted to perplex him by what they thought 
awkward questions, he was able to baffle them without much 
trouble by his superior skill. 

It is not, however, as an intellectual man that we must con- 
sider Jesus. He himself laid no claim to the character, and, if 
we would do him justice, we must judge him by his own idea 
of hjs function and his duties. So judging, there can be no 
question that we must recognize in him a man of the highest 
moral grandeur, lofty in his aims, pure in his use of means, 
earnest, energetic, zealous, and unselfish. No doubt he was 
sometimes misled by that very ardor which inspired him with 
the courage required to pursue his work. No doubt he suffered 
himself to forget the charity that was due to those who could 
not accept his mission nor bow before his preaching. No doubt 
he returned curse for curse, and hatred for hatred, with unspar- 
ing hand. Perhaps, too, he was sometimes the first to give way 
to angry passion, and to express in scathing words the bitter- 
ness he felt. Yet his failings are those of an upright and hon- 
orable character, and while they ought not to be extenuated or 
denied, neither ought they to outweigh his great and unques- 
tionable merits. Appointed, as he believed, to a special work, 
he bravely and honestly devoted his powers to the fulfillment 
of that work, not even shrinking from his duty when it led 
him to the cross. 

His unhappy end has cast its shadow over his life. He has 
been continually spoken of as "a man of sorrows and acquainted 
with grief.'' There is no reason to suppose that in any si)ecial 
sense he corresponded to the prophetic picture. Undoubtedly 
he had his sorrows; undoubtedly he was acquainted with giief. 
But unless there had been in his private life some tragedy of 
which we are not informed, those sorrows were not of the bit- 
terest, nor was that grief of the deepest. There is no doubt in 
his language a tinge of that sadness which all great natures who 
are not in harmony with their age must needs experience. He 
believed that he had great truths to tell, and he found his 
countrymen unwilling to receive them. Here was one source of 
unhappiness ; and another he had in common with all who are 



HIS OIIARACTER AND DOCTRINE. 367 

deeply conscious of the miseries of human existence. But in no 
special or transcendent sense can he be termed a man of sor- 
rows and acquainted with grief. So far as our evidence goes, 
he was exempt from the most terrible calamities that befall 
mankind. Free from all earthly ties but those of friendship 
with his chosen companions, he was not exposed to many of 
the anxieties and trials which afflict more ordinary men. Dying 
young, 'he did not suffer (so far as we know) from any serious 
illness, nor from the troubles, both phj'sical and mental, that 
scarcely ever fail to beset a longer life. Bereavement, the most 
terrible or* human ills, never afflicted him. Whether in his 
youth he had suffered the pains of unrequited love at the 
hands of some Galilean maiden we cannot tell. But there is 
nothing in his language or his career that would lead us to see 
in him an embittered or disappointed man. 

Judging by the representation given in the Gospels, it does 
not appear that his life was in any special measure sad or 
gloomy. On the contrary, his circumstances were in the main 
conducive to a fair share of happiness. Surrounded by admir- 
ing friends of his own sex, and attended by sympathizing (per- 
haps loving) women, he passed from place to place, drawing 
crowds around him, speaking his mind freely, and receiving 
no inconsiderable homage. Granting that he had enemies, he 
was able until his prosecution to meet them on equal terms, 
and was not prohibited (as he would have been in most Chris- 
tian countries until recent times) from proclaiming aloud his 
unorthodox opinions. True, this liberty was not allowed to con- 
tinue for ever, but it was no small matter for him that it had 
continued so long. True, he suffered a painful death; but far 
less painful than many a humble martyr has undergone for his 
sake; far less painful even than those torturing illnesses which 
so often precede the hour of rest. Nor is it possible that his 
death couM reflect its agonies back upon his life. His life, on 
the whole, seems to have been one, if not of abundant happi- 
ness, yet of a fair and reasonable degree of cheerfulness and 
of comfort. The notion that he had not where to lay his head 
is of course utterly unfounded. Not only had he his own house 
at Nazareth, but he had friends who at all times were happy to 
receive him. If he himself ever drew this sad picture of his 



368 JESUS CHRIST. 

desolation (which I doubt), he must have done it for a special 
purpose, and without regard to the literal accuracy of his words. 

While, then, I see no proof of the peculiar sorrow ascribed 
to him on the strength of a prophecy, I freely admit that he 
had the melancholy which belongs to a sympathetic heart. His 
words of regret over Jerusalem are unsurpassed in their beauty. 
At this closing period of his career we may indeed detect the 
sadness of disappointment. And in the bitter cry that was 
wrung from him at the end, " My God, my God, why hast thou 
forsaken me?" we look down for a moment into an abyss of 
misery which it is painful to contemplate; physical suffering 
and a shaken faith, the agonies of unaccomplished purposes, 
and the still more fearful agony of desertion by the loving 
Father in whom he had put his trust. 

But Jesus, though he knew it not, had done his work. Nay, 
he had done more than he himself intended. After-ages saw in 
him — what he saw only in his God— an ideal to be worshiped 
and a power to be addressed in prayer. We, who are free from 
this exaggeration of reverence, may yet continue to pay him 
the high and unquestioned honor which his unflinching devotion 
to his duty, his gentle regard for the weak and suffering, his 
uncorrupted purity of mind, and his self-sacrificing love so 
abundantly deserve. 



CHAPTER VI. 

HOLY BOOKS, OR BIBLES. 

Vast, and even immeasurable, as the influence has been 
which has been exercised on the course of human development 
by the great men of whom we have spoken, it has been equaled, 
if not surpassed, by the influence of the peculiar class of writ- 
ings which we have grouped together under the designation of 
Holy Books. Of this, the last manifestation of the Eeligious 
Idea, it will be necessary to speak in considerable detail ; both 
on account of its intrinsic importance, and because it is a branch 
of the subject which has not hitherto received the attention it 
deserves. 

We have been far too much accustomed in Europe to treat 
the Bible as a book standing altogether by itself; to be admired, 
reverenced and loved, or, it may be, to be criticised,, objected to 
and rejected, not as one of a class, but as something altogether 
peculiar and unparalleled in the literary history of the world. 
And, undoubtedly, if we compare it with ordinary literature of 
whatever description, whatever age, and whatever nation, this 
opinion is just. Neither in the poetry, the history, or the philos- 
ophy of any other nation do we find any work that at all resem- 
bles it. Nevertheless it would be a very rash conclusion to 
arrive at, that because in the whole field of Greek or Koman, Ital- 
ian or French, Teutonic or Celtic literature, there is nothing 
that admits of being put in the same category with the Bible, 
therefore the Bible cannot be. placed in any category at all. It 
is one of a numerous class; a class marked by certain distinct 
characteristics; a class of which some specimen is held in 
honor from the furthest East of Asia, to the extreme West of 
America, or, in other words, throughout every portion of the 
surface of the earth which is inhabited by any race with the 



370 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

smallest pretense to civilization and to culture. Wherever 
there is literature at all, there are Sacred Books. If in some 
isolated cases it is not so, these cases are exceptions too "trifling 
in extent to invalidate the rule. Speaking generally we may say, 
that every people which has risen above the conditions of savage 
life; every nation which possesses an organized administration, 
a settled domestic life, a religion with developed* and complex 
dogmas, possesses also its Sacred Books. If this truth has been 
too generally forgotton; if the Bible has been too commonly 
treated as something exceptional and peculiar which it was the 
glory of Christianity to possess, this omission is probably in 
great part due to the fact that the attention of scholars has 
been too much confined to the literature, the religion, and the 
general culture of the Greeks and Komans. From special cir- 
cumstances these nations had no Sacred writings among them. 
Their religion was independent of any such authorities; and 
our notions of pagan religion have been largely drawn from 
the religions of Greece and Eome. But the Greeks and Eo- 
mans were only an insignificant fraction of the Aryan race; 
and other far more numerous branches of that race had their 
recognized and authoritative Scriptures, containing in some 
portions those most ancient traditions of the original stock 
which entered into the intellectual property of the Hellenic 
family, in the form of mythological tales and current stories of 
their gods. We must not therefore be led by the example of 
classical antiquity to ignore the existence of these writings, or 
to overlook their importance.* 

AVe may classify the Sacred Books to which reference will be 
made in this chapter as follows, proceeding (as in the case of 
prophets) from East to West:— 

1. The Thirteen King, or Canon of the Confucians. 

2. The Tao-te-king, or Canon of the Ta6-se. 

3. The Veda, or Canon of the Hindus. 

4. The Tripitaka, or Canon of the Buddhists. 

5. The Zend Avesta; or Canon of the Parsees. 

* See on this subject the truly admirable remarks of Karl Otfrled Mul- 
ler, in his Prolegomena zu einer Wissensehaftlichen Mythologie (Gottin- 
gen. 1825), pp. 282-284. 



CLAIMS TO INSPIBATION. 371 

6. The Koran, or Canon of the Moslems. 

7. The Old Testament, or Canon of the Jews. 

8. The New Testament, or Canon of the Christians. 

The works included in the above list,— which are more 
numerous than might at first appear, owing to the vast collec- 
tions comprised under the titles "Vedas," and " Tripitaka,"— 
are distinguished, as has been already stated, by certain com- 
mon characteristics. It would be an exaggeration to say that 
all of these characteristics apply to each one of the writings 
accepted by any portion of mankind as canonical. This cannot 
be so, any more than the peculiar qualities which may happen 
to distinguish any given race of men can ever belong in equal 
measure to all its members. Hence there will necessarily be 
some exceptions to our rules, but on the whole I believe we 
may say with confidence that canonical or sacred, books have 
the following distinctive marks:— 

A. There are certain external marks, the presence of which 
is essential to constitute them sacred at all. 

1. They must be accepted by the sectaries of the religion to 
which they belong as being either inspired, or, if the nature of 
the faith precludes this idea, as containing the highest wisdom 
to which it is possible for man to attain, and indeed a much 
higher wisdom than can be reached by ordinary men. Nor do 
those who accept these books ever expect to attain it. They 
regard the authors, or supposed authors, as enlightened to a 
degree which is beyond the reach of their disciples, and receive 
their words as utterances of an unquestionable authority. But 
wherever a divine being is acknowledged, these books are 
regarded as emanating from him. Either they have fallen direct 
from heaven and been merely "seen" by their human editors, 
as was the case with th-e Vedic hymns; or their contents have 
been communicated in colloquies to holy men by the Deity 
himself, as happened with the Avesta; or an angel has revealed 
them to the prophet while in a fit or a state of ecstacy, as 
Mahomet was made acquainted with the Suras of the Koran ; or 
lastly, as is held to have been the case with the Jewish and 
Christian Scrii)tures, the mind of the writer has been at least so 
guided and informed by the Spirit of God, that in the words 
traced by his pen it was impossible he should en. 



372 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

Such a conviction is expressly stated in the Second Epistle 
to Timovhy, where it is said that *' all Scripture is given by in- 
spiration of God." And a claim to even more than inspiration 
is put forward in the Apocalypse, whose author first calls his 
work "the Eevelation of Jesus Christ," which he says God sent 
to him by an angel deputed for the purpose, and then proceeds 
to describe voices heard, and visions perceived; thus resting his 
prophetic knowledge not on supernatural information commu- 
nicated to the mind, but on the direct testimony of his senses. 

2. With this theory of inspiration, or of a more than human 
knowledge and wisdom, is closely connected an idea of merit to 
be obtained by reading such books, or hearing them read. 
With tedious iteration is this notion asserted in the later works 
of the Buddhist Canon. These indeed represent the degene^racy 
of the idea. One of them is so filled with the panegyrics pro- 
nounced upon itself by the Buddha or his hearers, and with the 
recital of the advantages to be obtained by him who reads it, 
that the student searches in vain under this mass of laudations 
for the substance of the book itself (H. B. I., p. 536). A Sutra 
translated by Schlagintweit from the Thibetan, and bearing the 
marks (according to its translator) of having been written at a 
period of "mystic modification of Buddhism," promises that, 
at a future period of intense and general distress this Sutra 
*' will be an ablution for every kind of sin which has been com- 
mitted in the meantime: all animated beings shall read it, and 
on account of it all sins shall be wiped away" (B. T., p. 139). 
In another Sutra, termed the Karanda vyuha, a great saint is 
introduced as exhorting his hearers to study this treatise, the 
efficaciousness of which he highly exalts (H. B. I., p. 222\ 
Another speaker recites in several stanzas the advantages which 
will accrue to him who either reads the Karanda vyuha or hears 
it read (Ibid., p. 226). Such was the force of the idea that the 
mere mechanical reading or copying of the sacred texts was in 
itself meritorious, that, by a still further separation of the out- 
ward action from its rational signification, the purely unintel- 
ligent process of turning a cylinder on which sentences of 
Scripture were printed came to be regarded as equally effica- 
cious. An author who has given an interesting account of these 
cylinders observes that, as few men in Thibet knew how to 



MERIT OP READING THEM. 373 

read, and those who did had not time to exercise their powers, 
"the Lamas cast about for an expedient to enable the ignorant 
and the much-occupied man also to obtain the spiritual advan- 
tages " (namely, purification from sin and exemption from me- 
tempsychosis) "attached to an observance of the practice men- 
tioned; they taught that the mere turning of a rolled manu- 
script might be considered an efficacious substitute for reading 
it.'* So completely does the one process take the place of the 
other that "each revolution of the cylinder is considered to be 
equal to the reading of as many sacred sentences or treatises as 
are enclosed in it, provided that the turning of the cylinder is 
done slowly and from right to left; " the slowness being a sign 
of a devout mind, and the direction of turning being a curious 
remnant of the original practice of reading, in which, as the 
letters run from left to riglit, the eye must move over them in 
that direction (B. T., pp, 230, 231). Similar sentiments, though 
not pushed to the same extravagance, prevail among the Hin- 
dus. One of the Brahmanas, or treatises appended to the met- 
rical portion of the Vedas, lays down the principle that "of all 
the modes of exertion, which are known between heaven and 
earth, study of the Yeda occupies the highest rank (in the case 
of him) who, knowing this, studies it" (O. S. T., vol. iii. p. 22). 
Manu, one of the highest of Indian authorities, observes that 
"a Brahman who should destroy these three worlds, and eat 
food received from any quarter whatever, would incur no guilt 
if he retained in his memory the Kig Veda. Repeating thrice 
with intent mind the Sanhita of the Eik, or the Yajush, or the 
Saman, with the Upanishads, he is freed from all his sins. 
Just as a clod thrown into a great lake is dissolved when it 
touches the water, so does all sin sink in the triple Yeda " 
(Ibid., vol. iii. p. 25). Reading the Holy Scriptures is with the 
Parsees a positive duty. And these works, read in the proper 
spirit, are thought to exert upon earth an influence somewhat 
similar to that of the primeval Word at the origin of created 
beings (Z. A. Q., p. 595). It is needless to speak of the import- 
ance attached among Jews and Christians to the reading and 
re-reading of their Bibles, or of the spiritual benefits supposed 
to result therefrom. It is worth remarking, however, that this 
constant perusal of Holy Writ is altogether a different operation 



374: HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

from that of studying it for tlie sake of knowing its contents. 
People read continually what they are already perfectly familiar 
with, and they neither gain, nor expect to gain, any fresh infor- 
mation from the performance. And this is a species of reading 
to which among Christian nations the Bible alone is subjected. 
The genesis of this notion is not difficult to follow. Once let 
a given work be accepted as containing information on religious 
questions which man's unaided faculties could not have attained, 
and it is evident that there is no better way of qualifying 
himself for the performance of his obligations towards heaven 
than by studying that work. Its perusal and re-perusal will 
increase his knowledge of divine things, and render him more 
and more fit, the oftener he repeats it, to put that knowledge 
into practice. But if it is thus advantageous to the devout man 
to be familiar with the sacred writings of his faith, it is plain 
that the attention he gives to them must be in the highest de- 
gree agreeable to the divinity from whom they emanate. For, 
to put it on the lowest ground, it is a sign of respect. It ren- 
ders it evident that he is not indifferent to the communication 
which his God has been pleased to make. It evinces a pious 
and reverential disposition. Hence not only is the reader bene- 
fited by such a study, but the Deity is pleased by it. Or if the 
books are not conceived as inspired by any deity, yet a careful 
attention to them shows a desire for wisdom, and a humble 
regard for the instructions of more highly-gifted men who in 
these religions stand in the place of gods. Thus the action of 
reading these works, and becoming thoroughly familiar with 
their contents, is for natural reasons regarded as meritorious. 
But this is not all. An act which at first is meritorious as a 
means, tends inevitably to become meritorious as an end. 
Moreover, actions frequently repeated for some definite reason 
come to be repeated when that reason is absent. Thus, the 
reading of Sacred Books, originally a profitable exercise to the 
mind of the reader, is soon undertaken for its own sake, whether 
the mind of the reader be concerned in it or not. And the action, 
having become habitual, is stereotyped as a religious custom, 
and therefore a religious obligation. The wjrds of the holy 
books are read aloud to a congregation, without effort or intel- 
ligence on their part, perhaps in a tongue which they do not 



SUBTLETY OF INTERPRETATION. 375 

comprehend. Even if the vernacular be empluyed, there is not 
the pretence of an effort to penetrate the sense of difiacult pas- 
sages. Holy Writ has become a charm, to be mechanically read 
and as mechanically heard, and the notion of merit — arising in 
the first instance from the high importance of understanding 
its meaning with a view to practicing its precepts — now attaches 
to the mere repetition of the consecrated words. 

3. The exact converse of this unintelligent reverence for the 
sacred writings is the excessive and over-bubtle exercise of in- 
telligence upon them. It is the common fate of such works to 
be made the subject of the most minute, most careful, and 
most constant scrutiny to which any Of the productions of the 
human mind can be subjected. The pious and the learned 
alike submit them to an unceasing study. No phrase, no word, 
no letter, passes unobserved. The result of this devout iuvesti- 
gation naturally is, that much which in reality belongs to the 
mind of the reader is attributed to that of the writer. Ap- 
proached with the fixed prepossession that they contain vast 
stores of superhuman wisdom, that which is so eagerly sought 
from them is certain to be found. Hence the natural and sim- 
ple meaning of the words is set aside, or is relegated to a sec- 
ondary place. All sorts of forced interpretations are put upon 
them with a view of compelling them to harmonize with that 
which it is supposed they ought to mean. Statements, doc- 
trines, and allusions are discovered in them which not only have 
no existence in their pages, but which are absolutely foreign to 
the epoch at which they were written. This process of false 
interpretation is greatly favored by distance of time. When an 
ancient book is approached by those who know but little of the 
external circumstances, or of the intellectual and spiritual at- 
mosphere, of the age in which it was composed, much that was 
simple and plain enough to the contemporaries of the writer 
will be dubious and obscure to them. And when they are de- 
termined to find in the venerable classic nothing but perfect 
truth, the result of such conditions is an inevitable confusion. 
Their own actual notions of truth must at all hazards be dis- 
covered in the sacred pages. The assumption cannot be surren- 
dered; all that does not agree with it must therefore be suit- 
ably explained. 



376 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

Are proceedings or actions whicli shock the improved moral- 
ity of a later age spoken of with approbation in the canonical 
books ? Some evasion must be discovered which will reconcile 
ethics with belief. Are doctrines which the religion of a later 
age rejects plainly enunciated, or statements of facts, which 
later investigation has shown to be impossible, unequivocally 
made? The inconvenient passages must be Shown to bear an- 
other construction. Are there portions whose character appears 
too trivial or too mundane to be consistent with the dignity of 
works given for the instruction of mankind ? These portions 
must be shown to possess a mystical significance; a spirit hid- 
den beneath the letter; profound instruction veiled under ordi- 
nary phrases. Are the dogmas cherished as of supreme im- 
portance by subsequent generations unhappily not to be found 
in the text of Kevelation ? These dogmas must be read out of 
them by putting a strain upon words which apparently refer to 
some other subject. Perhaps, if they are not contained in 
them totidem verbis, they may be totidem sylldbis : or if not 
even totidem sylldbis, at least totidem Uteris, And the absence 
of a letter (like the k in shoulder-knots) can always be got 
over somehow. Lastly, are there palpable contradictions? At 
whatever cost they must be explained away, for Holy Writ, 
being inspired, can never contradict itself. 

Let us consider a few of the most striking examples of these 
methods of treatment. China, usually so matter of fact, has 
manifested in this field a subtlety of interpretation not alto- 
gether unworthy of the more mystical India. The Ch'un 
Ts'ew, one of the books of the Chinese Canon, is a historical 
compilation attributed to Confucius himself, and is therefore of 
more than ordinary authority even for a Sacred Book. Con- 
cerning one of the years of which it contains a record, the fol- 
lowing statements are made:— 

*'In the ninth month, on Kang-seuk, the first day of the 
moon, the sun was eclipsed. 

"In winter, in the tenth month, on Kang-shin, the first day 
of the moon, the sun was eclipsed " (0. C, vol. v. p. 489.— Ch'un 
Ts'ew, b. 9, ch. xxi. p. 5, 6). 

Two eclipses in such close proximity were of course an im- 
possibility. Chinese scholars were fully aware of this, and 



FORCED INTERPRETATIONS. 377 

knew, moreover, that the second eclipse mentioned did not 
take place. A similar mistake occurred in another chapter, so 
that there were two unquestionable blunders to be got over. No 
wonder then that "the critics," as Dr. Legge says, "have vexed 
themselves with the question in vain." But one of them pro- 
poses an explanation. "In this year," he remarks, "and in the 
twenty-fourth year, we have the record of eclipses in successive 
months. According to modern chronologists such a thing could 
not be; hut perhaps it did occur in ancient times!" (Ibid., vol. v. 
p. 491). Dr. Legge has italicized the concluding words, and put 
an exclamation after them, as if they embodied a surprising 
absurdity. But his experience of Biblical criticism must have 
presented him with abundant instances of similar interpreta- 
tions of the glaring contradictions to modern science found in 
Scripture. Is it more ridiculous to suppose that the two eclipses 
might have occurred in two months than to believe that the 
sun stood still, in other words, that the revolution of the earth 
on its axis ceased for a space of time ? or that an ass could be 
endowed with human speech ? or that a man, instead of dying, 
could rise from earth to heaven? And if these and similar 
strange occurrences be explained as miracles, then such mira- 
cles "did occur in ancient times," and do not now. Or if it be 
attempted, as it is by interpreters of the rationalistic school to 
get over the difficulty by supposing a natural event as the foun- 
dation of the story — as, one writer suggests that the descent of 
the Holy Ghost at Pentecost was a strong blast of wind — then 
European critics, like those of China, "vex themselves in vain." 
No country, however, has done more than India, possibly 
none has done so much, in the peculiar exercise of ingenuity by 
which all sorts of senses are deduced from sacred texts. The 
Veda formed in that highly religious land the common basis on 
which each variety of philosophy was founded, and by which 
each was thought to be justified. Dr. Muir has collected a 
number of facts in proof of the diverse interpretations that 
found defenders among the champions of the several schools. In 
these facts, according to him, " we find another illustration (1) 
of the tendency common to all dogmatic theologians to interpret 
in strict conformity to their own opinions the unsystematic and 
not always consistent texts of an earlier age which have been 



378 HOLT BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

handed down by tradition as sacred and infallible, and to repre- 
sent them as containing, or as necessarily implying, fixed and 
consistent systems of doctrine ; as well as (2) of the diversity of 
view which so generally prevails in regard to the sense of such 
texts among writers of different schools, who adduce them with 
equal positiveness of assertion as establishing tenets and prin- 
ciples which are mutually contradictory or inconsistent" (O. S. 
T., vol. iii. p, XX). . 

Exactly the same methods were applied to the sacred books 
of Buddhism. "It is in general," says Burnouf, "the same 
texts that serve as a foundation for all doctrines; only the ex- 
planation of these texts marks the naturalistic, theistic, moral 
or intellectual tendency " (H. B. I., p. 444). To meet the case 
of contradictions occurricg in the Buddhistic Sutras a theory of 
a double meaning has been invented. The various schools that 
had arisen in the course of time did not venture to reject the 
Sutras that failed to harmonize with their own opinions, as not 
having emanated from Buddha, but maintained he had not ex- 
pressed them in the form of absolute truth. He had often, they 
thought, adapted himself to the conceptions of his hearers, and 
uttered what was directly contradictory to his veritable ideas. 
Hence his words must be taken in two senses; the palpable and 
the hidden sense (Wassiljew, pp. 105, 329). As it has been with 
the Chinese Classics, with the Veda, and with the Tripitaka, so 
it has been with the Zend A vesta. Speaking of the progress of 
scholarship in deciphering the sense of that ancient work, Pro- 
fessor Max Mtiller justly observes that "greater violence is done 
by successive interpreters to sacred writings than to any other 
relics of ancient literature. Ideas grow and change, yet each 
generation tries to find its own ideas reflected in the sacred 
pa<>es of their early prophets, and in addition to the ordinary 
influences which blur and obscure the sharp features of old 
words, artificial influences are here at work distorting the nat- 
ural expression of words which have been invested with a sacred 
authority. Passages in the Veda or Zend Avesta which do not 
bear on religious or philosophical doctrines, are generally ex- 
plained simply and naturally, even by the latest of native com- 
mentators. But as soon as any word or sentence can be so 
turned as to support a doctrine, however modern, or a precept, 



FORCED INTERPRETATIONS. 379 

however irrational, the simplest phrases are tortured and man- 
gled till at last they are made to yield their assent to ideas the 
most foreign to the minds of the authors of the Veda and Zend 
Avesta " (Chips, vol. i. p. 134). 

It is remarkable that almost identical expressions are em- 
ployed by a Roman Catholic writer in reference to the efforts 
that have been made by theologians to discover the doctrine of 
the Trinity in the pages of the Hebrew Bible. I am glad to be 
able to quote an authority so unexceptionable as that of M. 
Didron for the proposition, that the poverty of the Old Testa- 
ment in texts relating to the Trinity has caused the commenta- 
tors to torture the sense of the words and the signification of 
facts. He adds the interesting information that artists, pushed 
on by the commentators, have represented the signs of the 
Trinity in scenes which did not admit of them. Thus, commen- 
tators and artists have united to find a revelation of the three 
persons of the Godhead in the three angels whom Abraham 
met in the plain of Mamre; in the three companions of Daniel 
who were thrown into the fiery furnace, and in other passages 
of equal relevance. No wonder, when such are the texts relied 
upon to prove the presence of this cardinal dogma, that M. 
Didron should observe that the Old Testament contains very 
few lexts that are clear and precise upon the subject, and that 
in this portion of the Sacred Books we do not see a sufficient 
number of real and unquestionable manifestations of the Holy 
Trinity (Ic. Ch., pp 514-517). 

PerhaDS, however, the most conspicuous instance of the power 
of preconceptions in deciding the sense of Holy Writ is the 
traditional interpretation of the Song of Solomon. In this little 
book, which is altogether secular in its subject and its nature, 
the love of a young damsel to her swain is described in pecul- 
iarly plain and sensuous language. But precisely because it 
was so plain was it necessary to find allegorical allusions under 
its rather glowing phrases. Hence such expressions as "let 
him kiss me with a kiss of his mouth ; thy caresses are softer 
than wine," are held to refer to "the Church's love unto 
Christ," and an enthusiastic encomium passed by the Shulamite 
upon the physical perfections of her lover is called " a descrip- 
tion of Christ by his graces." So, when another speaker, in 



380 HOLY BOOKS, OR BIBLES. 

this case a man, flatters a women by enumerating the beauties 
of her form, the feet, the joints of her thighs, the navel, the 
belly, the two breasts so passionately praised by her admirer, 
are thought in some mystic way to signify the graces of the 
Church. A passage referring to a young ^irl not yet fully devel- 
oped is made out to be a foreshadowing of "the calling of the 
Gentiles," and the natural and simple appeal to a lover to 
make haste to come is "the Church praying for Christ's com- 
ing." 

Equal, or nearly equal, absurdities are found in the Chinese 
interpretations of certain Odes contained in their classics. 
These Odes are, like the Song of Songs, mere exp' essions of hu- 
man love. But the critics find in them profound historical 
allusions; history being the staple of the Chinese sacred books, 
as theology is of the Hebrew ones. Now it happened in China, 
as it has happened in Europe, that there was a traditional 
meaning attached to this portion of the sacred books; and the 
traditional meaning was embodied in a Preface which was gen- 
erally supposed to have descended from very ancient times, 
which came to be incorporated with the Odes, and thus ap- 
peared to rest on the same authority as the text itself. But a 
Chinese scholar, named Choo He, who examined the preface in 
a freer spirit than was usual among the commentators, formed 
a very different opinion as to its age and its authority, He 
believed it to be of much more recent date that was commonly 
supposed, and by no means to form an integral portion of the 
Odes. The prevailing theory was that the Preface had existed 
as a separate document in the time of a scholar named Maou, 
"and that he broke it up, prefixing to each Ode the portion be- 
longing to it. The natural conclusion," observes Choo He, is that 
the Preface had come down from a remote period, and Hwang" 
(a scholar who, in one account, is said to have written the Pref- 
ace) '* merely added to it and rounded it off. In accordance 
with this, scholars generally hold that the first sentences in the 
introductory notices formed the original Preface which Maou 
distributed, and that the following portions were subsequently 
added. This view may appear reasonable, but when we exam- 
ine those first sentences themselves we find some of them 
which do not agree with the obvious meaning of the Odes to 



A CHINESE SONG OF SONGS. 381 

which they are prefixed, and give merely the rash and baseless 
expositions of the writers." Choo He adds, that after the pref- 
atory notices were published as a portion of the text, "they 
appeared as if th£y were the production of the poets themselves 
and the Odes seemed to be made from them as so many 
themes. Scholars handed down a faith in them from one to 
another, and no one ventured to express a doubt of their 
authority. The text was twisted and chiseled to bring it into 
accordance with them, and nobody would undertake to say 
plainly that they were the work of the scholars of the Han 
dynasty" (C. C, vol. iv. Proleg., p. 33). 

Ample confirmalion of the justice of Choo He's opinion will 
be found on turning to the Odes and comparing them with the 
notices in the Preface, which bear a family likeness to the 
headings of the chapters in the Song of Songs. Here, for exam- 
ple, is an Ode:— 

" If you, Sir, think kindly of me, 
I wiir hold up my lower garments, and cross the Tsin. 
If you do not think of me. 

Is there no other person [to do so ?] f 

You foolish, foolish fellow 1"* 

The second stanza is identical, with this exception, that the 
name of the river is changed. Now this young lady's coquet- 
tish appeal to her lover is said in the Preface to be an expres- 
sion "of the desire of the people of Ch'ing to have the condi- 
tion of the State rectified " (0. C, vol. iv. Proleg., p. 51). 
Another Ode runs thus :— 

1. ** The sun is in the east. 

And that lovely girl 

Is in my chamber. 

She is in my chamber; 

She treads in my footsteps, and comes to me. 

2. " The moon is in the east. 

And that lovely girl 
Is inside my door. 

• 0. 0„ vol. iv. p. uo.— She King, pt. I. b. 7, ode 18. 



382 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

She is inside my door; 

She treads in my footsteps, and hastens away."* 

This simple poem is supposed by the Preface to be ** directed 
against the decay [of the times]." Observe the theory that 
anything appeasing in a sacred book must have a moral pur- 
pose. " The relation of ruler and minister was neglected. Men 
and women sought each other in lewd fashion; and there was 
no ability to alter the customs by the rules of propriety" (C. 
C, vol. iv. Proieg., p. 52). A commentator, studious to discover 
the hidden moral, urges that the incongruous fact of the young 
woman's coming at sunrii^e and going at moonrise "should sat- 
isfy us that, under the figuration of these lovers, is intended a 
representation of Ts'e, with bright or with gloomy relations 
between its ruler and officers " (C. C, vol. iv. p. 153, note,). In 
another Ode a lady laments her husband's absence, pathetically 
saying that while she does not see him, her heart cannot for- 
get its grief: 

" How is it, how is it. 
That he forgets me so very mnch?" 

is the burden of every stanza. This piece, according to the 
Preface, was directed against a duke, "who slichted the men of 
worth whom his father had collected around him, leaving the 
State without those who were its ornament and strength " (C. 
C, vol. iv. p. 200, and the note. — She King, pt. i. b. 11, ode 7). 

With such methods as these there is no marvel which may 
not be accomplished. And when, by the lapse of many centu- 
ries, the very language of the sacred records has been forgotten 
— as the Sanscrit of the Vedas was forgotten by the Hindus, 
the Zend by the Parsees, and the Hebrew by the Jews — the 
process of perversion is still further favored. The original works 
are then accessible»but to a few ; and when these few undertake 
to explain them in the ordinary tongue, they will do so with a 
gloss sugs^ested by their own imperfect comprehension of the 
thoughts and language of the past. 

These, then, ma^'^ be accepted as the external marks of Sacred 
Books: 1. The unusual veneration accorded to them by the ad- 

* 0. C. vol. iv. p. 153.— She King, pt. i, b. 8. ode 4. 



SUBJECT-MATTER OF SACRED BOOKS. 383 

herents of each religion, on the ground that they contain truths 
beyond the reach of human intelligence when not specially 
enlightened; or in oiher words, the theory of their inspiration. 
2. The notion of religious merit atttached to reading them. 3. 
The application to them of forced interpretation, in order to 
bring them into accordance with the assumptions made regard- 
ing them. 

B. Passing now to the internal marks by which writings of 
this class are distinguished, we shall find several which, taken 
together, constitute them altogether a peculiar branch of liter- 
ature. 

1. Their subjects are generally confined within a certain 
definite range, but in the limits of that range there is a consid- 
erable portion which has the peculiarity that their investigation 
transcends the unaided powers of the human intellect. Almost 
the whole of the vast field of theological dogma comes under 
this head. The sublimer subjects usually dealt with, and not 
only dealt with, but emphatically dwelt upon, in the Sacred 
Books are, the nature of the Deity and his mode of action 
towards mankind; the creation of the world and its various 
constituent parts, including man himself; the motives of the 
Deity in these exercises of his power ; the dogmas to be believed 
in reference to the Deity himself and in reference to other 
superhuman powers or agencies, whether good or bad ; and the 
condition of the soul after death with the rewards and the pun- 
ishments of vicious conduct. Coming down to matters of a 
less purely celestial character, but still beyond the reach of the 
uninspired faculties of ordinary minds, they treat of the primi- 
tive condition of mankind when first placed upon the earth ; of 
his earliest history; of the rites by which the divine being is 
to be worshiped; of the sacrifices which are to be offered to 
him ; of the ceremonies by which his favor is to be won. Here 
we move in a region which is at least intelligible and free from 
mysteries, though it is plain that we could not arrive at any 
certain conclusions on such things as these without divine assist- 
ance and superhuman illumination. 

Lastly, the Sacred Books of all nations profess to give infor- 
mation on a subject the nature of which is altogether mundane, 
and with regard to which truth is accessible to all, inspired or 



384 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

uninspired ; — the rules of moral conduct. These are, I believe, 
the main subjects which will be found treated of in the various 
books that lay claim to the title of Sacred. These subjects may 
be briefly classified as, 1. Metaphysical speculations as to the 
nature of the Deity. 2. Doctrines as to the past or future exist- 
ence of the soul. 3. Accounts of the creation. 4. Lives of 
prophets or collections of their sayings. 5. Theories as to the 
origin of evil. 6. Prescriptions as to ritual. 7. Ethics. That 
this does not pretend to be an exhaustive- classification, I need 
hardly say; other topics are treated in some of them to which 
no allusion is made, and all of these topics themselves are not 
treated at all. But they are those with which the Sacred Books 
are principally concerned ; and more than this, they are those 
in the treatment of which these books are especially peculiar. 
One important feature both of the Chinese and the Jewish 
Canon is passed over, namely, their historical records. If these 
records were not exceptional appearances in sacred works, or if, 
though exceptional, they presented some essential singularity 
marking them off from all ordinary history, they should be 
included in the list of subjects. But as the Chinese Shoo 
King are perfectly commonplace annals of matters of fact ; and 
as the Books of Samuel, Kings, and Chronicles are not other- 
wise distinguished from secular history than by their theolog- 
ical theories — in respect of which they are included under the 
previous heads — I see no reason to include history among the 
matters generally treated in Sacred Books. It is right, how- 
ever, to note in passing that in these two instances it is found 
in them. 

2. Since, however, it will be obvious to all that these great 
topics are discussed in many other works which have no pre- 
tention to be thought sacred, we must seek for some further and 
more definite criterion by which to separate them from general 
literature. And we shall find it in the manner in which the 
above-named subjects are treated. The great distinction between 
sacred and non-sacred writings in their manner of dealing with 
these great questions is the tone of authority, and if the expres- 
sion may be used, of finality, assumed by the former. There 
is no appeal beyond them to a higher authority than their own. 
Having God as their author and inspirer, or being the product 



THEIB ABSOLUTE AUTHORITATIVENESS. 385 

of the supreme elevation of reason, they take for gianted that 
human beings will not question or cavil at their statements. 
"While other writers, when seeking to enforce the doctrines of 
any positive religion, invariably rest their contentions, implic- 
itly or explicitly, on some superior authority, referring their 
readers or hearers either to the Vedas, the Koran, the Bible, 
the Charch, or some other recognized standard of belief and 
would think it in the last degree presumptuous to claim assent 
except to what can be found in or deduced from that standard ; 
while those teachers who are not the exponents of any positive, 
revealed religion, endeavor to prove their conclusions from the 
common intuitions or the common reasoning faculties of man- 
kind; the writers of these books do neither. They seem to 
speak with a full confidence that their words need no confirma- 
tion either from authority or from reason. If they tell us the 
story of the creation of the world, they do not think it needful 
to inform us from what sources the narrative is derived. If 
they reveal the character of God, it is without explaining the 
means by which their insight has been obtained. If they lay 
down the rules of religious or moral conduct, it is not done 
with the modesty of fallible teachers, but with the voice of 
unqualified command emanating from the plentitude of power. 
Of their decisions there can be no discussion; from their sen- 
tences there is no appeal. 

3. It corresponds with this character that Sacred Books 
should very generally be anonymous; or more strictly speak- 
ing, impersonal ; that is, that they should not be put forward in 
the name of an individual, and that no individual should take 
credit for their authorship. Understanding the expression in 
this somewhat wider sense, we may say that anonymity is a 
general characteristic of this class of writings. Their authors 
do not deeire to invite attention to their own personality, or to 
claim assent on the ground of respect or consideration towards 
themselves. On the contrary, they withdraw entirely from ob- 
servation ; they appear to be thoroughly engrossed in the gretrt- 
ness of the subject; and to write not from any deliberate 
design or with any artistic plan, but simply from the fullness 
of the inspiration by which they are controlled. Hence not only 
are the name» of the authors \n most cases completely lost to 



386 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

US, but they have left us not a hint or an indication by which 
we could discover what manner of men they were. Even where 
the name of a writer has been preserved to us, it is often 
rather by some accident altogether independent of the book, 
and which in no way alters its anonymous character. We hap- 
pen to know, on what seems to be good authority, that Lao-tse 
composed the Tao-te-king, but assuredly there is not a syllable 
in the work itself which indicates its author. We happen to 
know beyond a doubt that Mahomet composed the Koran; but 
the theory of the book is that it had no human author at all, 
and it was put forth, not as the prophet's composition, but as 
the literal reproduction of revelations made to him from 
heaven. The most noteworthy exceptions are the prophets of 
the Old Testament and the Pauline, Petrine and Johannine 
Epistles of the New. But of the prophets, though their names 
are indeed given, the great majority are little more than a mere 
name to us; while large portions of the prophecies, attributed 
in the Jewish Canon to some celebrated prophet, are in reality 
the work of unknown writers. This is notoriously the case with 
the whole of the latter part of our Isaiah ; it is the case with parts 
of Jeremiah; it is the case with Malachi (whose real name is 
not preserved); it is the case with Daniel. 

The Pauline Epistles offer indeed a marked exception to the 
rule ; and some of them are of doubtful authenticity. The Epis- 
tles of Peter, of John, of James and Jude, even if their author- 
ship be correctly assigned, are of too limited extent to constitute 
an exception of any importance. The rest of the Christian 
Bible follows the rule. Like the Vedic hymns, like the Sutras 
of Buddhism, like the records of the life and doctrines of Khung- 
tse, like the Avesta, all the larger books of the Bible — except 
the prophets — are anonymous. The whole of the historical por- 
tion of the Old Testament, the four Gospels, the Acts of the 
Apostles, the Epistle to the Hebrews, are — whatever names tra- 
dition may have associated with them — strictly the production 
of unknown authors. This characteristic is one of very high 
importance, because it indicates — along with another which I 
am about to mention— the spirit in which these works were 
written. They were written as it were unconsciously and unde- 
signedly; not of course without a knowledge on the vrriter's 



THEIR FORMLESSNESS. 387 

part of what he was about, but without that conscious and dis- 
tinct intention of composing a literary work with which ordinary 
men sit down to write a book. Flowing from the depths of re- 
ligious feeling, they were the reflection of the age that brought 
them forth. Generations past and present, nations, communi- 
ties, brotherhoods of believers, spoke in them and through them. 
They were not only the work of him who first uttered them or 
wrote them; others worked with him, thought with him, spoke 
with him; they were not merely the voice of an individual, but 
the voice of an epoch and of a people. Hence the utter absence 
of any apparent and palpable authorship, the disappearance of 
the individual in the grandeur of the subject. This phenome- 
non is not indeed quite peculiar to Sacred Books. It belongs 
also to those great national epics which likewise express the 
feelings of whole races and communities of men; to the Mahab- 
harata, to the Eamayana, to the Iliad and the Odyssey, to the 
Yolsungen and NibeLungen Sagas, to the Eddas, to the legends 
of King Arthur and his knights. These poems, or these poeti- 
cal tales, are anonymous, and they occupy in the Veneration of 
the people a rank which is second only to that of books actually 
sacred. In some other respects they bear a resemblance to 
Sacred Books, but these books differ from them in one impor- 
tant particular, which of itself sufiQces to place them in a differ- 
ent category. What that particular is must now be explained. 
4. If I wfere to describe it by a single word, I should call it 
their formlessness. The term is an awkward one, but I know of 
no other which so exactly describes this most peculiar feature 
of Sacred Books. Like the earth In its chaotic condition before 
creation, they are "without form." That artistic finish, that 
construction, combination of parts into a well defined edifice, 
that arrangement of the whole work upon an apparent plan, sub- 
servient to a distinct object, which marks every other class of 
the productions of the human mind, is entirely wanting to 
them. They read not unfrequently as if they had been care- 
lessly jotted down without the smallest regard to order, or the 
least attention to the effect to be produced on the mind of the 
reader. Sometimes they may even be said to have neither be- 
ginning, middle, nor end. We might open them anywhere and 
close them anywhere without material difference. Sometimes 



388 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

there is a distinct progress in the narrative, but it is neverthe- 
less wholly without methodical combination of the separate 
parts into a well-ordered whole. ^^lerein they differ also from 
those poetical Epics which we have found agreeing with them 
in being virtually anonymous. Nothing can exceed the grace, 
the finish, the perfection of style, of those immortal poems 
which are known as Homeric. The northern Epics are indeed 
simpler, ruder, far more destitute of literary merit. The first 
part, for instance, of the Edda Saemundar (which perhaps 
ought not to be called an Epic at all) is 'to the last degree 
uncouth and barb irous. But then the subject-matter of this 
portion of the Edda is such as belongs properly to Sacred 
Books, and had it ever been actually current among tke Scan- 
dinavians as a canonical work — of which we have no evidence — 
it would be entitled to a place among them. When we eome 
to the second or heroic portion of this Edda, the case is differ- 
ent. The mode of treatment is still rude and unattractive, but 
if, unrepelled by the outward form, we study the longest of the 
narratives which this division contains — the Saga of the Val- 
sungs — we shall discover in it a tale, which for the exquisite 
pathos of its sentiments, for the deep and tragic interest which 
centres round the principal characters, for the vivid delineation 
by a few brief touches of the intensest suffering, is scarcely 
surpassed even by the far more finished productions of Hellenic 
genius. No doubt the foundation of the story is mythological, 
and this throws over many of its incidents a grotesqueness 
which goes far in modern eyes to mar the effect. But the myth- 
ological incidents of the Iliad and the Odyssey are grotesque 
also, and it requires all the genius of the poet to render them 
tolerable. Apart from this groundwork, the Volsunga-Saga 
treats its personages as human, and claims from its readers a 
'purely human interest in their various adventures. It relates 
these adventures in a connected form, it depicts the feelings of 
the several actors with all the sympathy of the dramatist, and 
draws no moral, teaches no lesson. In the whole range of 
sacred literature I recollect nothing like this. Stories are doubt- 
less told in it, but we are made to feel that they are subservient 
to an ulterior purpose. In the Old Testament and in the New, 
they serve to enforce the theological doctrines of the writers ; in 



DISREGARD OF LITERARY EXCELLENCE. 389 

the works of the Buddhists they generally impress on the 
hearers some useful lesson as to the reward of merit, and the 
punishment of demerit, in a future existence. Of the genuine 
and simple relation of a rather elaborate romance, terminating 
in itself, there is probably no instance. Such stories as are 
related are moral tales, and not romances; and they are gener- 
ally too short to absorb, in any considerable degree, the inter- 
est of the reader. 

While this is the difference between secular and Sacred 
Books in respect of. their narrative portions, the sacred are as 
a whole even more decidedly below the secular in all that be- 
longs to style and composition. The dullest historian generally 
contrives to render his chronicle more lucid, and therefore more 
readable, than the authors of canonical books. In these last 
there is the most absolute disregard of artistic or literary excel- 
lence. Hence they are, with scarcely an exception, very tedious 
reading. M. Eenan observes of the Koran that its continuous 
perusal is almost intolerable. Burnouf hesitates to inflict upon 
his readers the tedium he himself has suffered from the study 
of certain Tantras. The inconceivable tediousness of the Budd- 
histic Sutras — excepting the earlier and simpler ones — is well 
known to those who have read or attempted to read such works, 
as, for instance, the Saddharma Pundarika. The Chinese Clas- 
sics are less repulsive, but few readers would care to study them 
for long together. The Vedic hymns, though full of mytholog- 
ical interest, are yet difficult and unpleasant reading, both from 
their monotony and the looseness of the connection between 
each verse and sentence. The Brahmanas are barely readable. 
The Avesta is far from attractive. The Bible, though vastly 
superior in this respect to all the rest of its class, is yet not 
easy to read for any length of time without fatigue. Doubtless, 
if taken as a special study, with a view to something which we 
desire to ascertain from it, we may without difficulty read large 
l^ortions at a time ; yet we see that Christians, who read it for 
edification, invariably choose in their public assemblies to con- 
fine themselves to very moderate sections of it indeed, while 
they will listen to sermons of many times the length. There 
can be little doubt that a similar practice is pursued in private 
devotion. Single chapters, or at most a few chapters, are se- 



390 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

lected; these are perused, and perhaps made the object of 
meditation; but even the most fervent admirers of the Bible 
would probably find it difficult to read through its longer books 
without pausing. They do not, so to speak, "carry us on." It 
was essential to dwell on this tediousness of Sacred Books, be- 
cause it forms one of their most marked characteristics. Nor 
does it arise, as is often the case, from indifference or aversion 
on the part of the reader. Other books repel us because we 
have no interest in the subjects with which they deal. In these, 
the keenest interest in the subjects with which they deal will 
not suffice to render their presentation tolerable. 

Section I.— The Thirteen King.* 

Sacred Books in general are in China termed King. But as 
the Chinese Buddhists have their own sacred literature, and as 
Taou-ists are in possession of a sacred work of their founder, 
Lao-tse, I call the Books of the State religion, that is, of the 
followers of Confucius, the King par excellence. For Confucian- 
ism is the official creed of the Government of China, and the 
Confucian Canon forms the subject of the Civil Service examin- 
ations which qualify for office. According to a competent 
authority, "a complete knowledge of the whole of them, as 
well as of the standard notes and criticisms by which they are 
elucidated, is an indispensable condition towards the attainment 
of the higher grades of literary and official rank" (Chinese, 
vol. ii. p. 48). 

* In treating of the Sacred Books of the Confucian School in China, I 
rely entirely upon the admirable and (so far as it has yet gone) complete 
work of the Eev. Dr. James Legge. Although I have consulted other pub- 
lieanons, I have not drawn my information from them, because it was at 
once evident that Dr. Legge's "Chinese Classics" was immeasurably 
superior to all that had preceded it on the same subject. Unfortunately, 
the very thoroughness of the work renders it voluminous ; and it thus 
happens that the author has not fulflUed more than a portion of the 
promise held out at its commencement. It must bo the earnest hope of 
all who are interested in these studies that the learned missionary will 
live to complete his design; meantime, we are obliged to confine ourselves 
to a noti3e of that portion of the Classics which he has translated. For 
Pauthier.s French translation of the Chinese Classics (in the Pantheon 
Litteraire: "Les Livres Sacres de I'Orient") embraces only that portion of 
the King which is to be found in the hitherto-published volumes of Dr. 
Legge.. 



SACRED BOOKS OF THE CHINESE. 391 

The writings now recognized as especiciUy sacred in China 
are "the five King," and '• the four Shoo.'' * King is a term of 
wliich the proper signification is "the warp, the chain of a web: 
thence that which progresses equally, that which constitutes a 
fundamental law, the normal. Applied to books, it indicates 
those that are regarded as canonical ; as an absolute standard, 
either in general or with reference to some definite object" (T. 
T. K., p. Ixviii). In the words of another Sinologue, it is "the 
Kule, the Law, a book of canonical authority, a classical book" 
(L. T., p. ix). The word seems therefore on the whole to cor- 
respond most nearly to what we mean by a "canonical book." 
Shoo means "Writings or Books." The four Shoo, of which I 
shall speak first, are these: — A 1. The Lun Yu, or Digested 
Conversations (of Confucius). A 2. The Ta Heo, or Great Learn- 
ing. A 3. The Chung Yung, or Doctrine of the Mean. A 4. 
The Works of Mang-tsze, or Mencius. The five King are 
these:— B 1. The Yih, or Book of Changes (Noticed in 
Pauthier, p. 137). B 2. The Shoo, or Book of History. B 3. 
The She, or Book of Poetry. B 4. The Le Ke, or Eecord of 
Rites. B 5. The Ch'un Ts'ew, or Spring and Autumn, a chron- 
icle of events from b. c. 721-b. c. 480. The oldest enumeration 
specified only the five King, to which the Yoke, or Record of 
Music (now in the Le Ke), was sometimes added, making six. 
There was also a division into nine King; and in the compila- 
tion made by order of Tae-Tsung (who reigned in the 7th cen- 
tury A. D.) there are specified thirteen King, which consist of : f 
— 1-7. The five King, including three editions of the Ch'un 
Ts'ew. 8. The Lun Yu (A 1). 9. Mang-tsze (A 4). 10. The Chow 
Le, or Ritual of Chow. 11. The E Le, or Ceremonial Usages. 
12. The Urh Ya, a sort of ancient dictionary. 13. Th^ Heaou 
King, or Classic of Filial Piety. The apparent omission of the 
Ta Heo (A 2) and the Chung Yung (A 3) is accounted for by the 
fact that both are included in the Le Ke (B 4). The only works 



♦ Of which an English translation by David Collie, entitled "TheChi- 
nese Classical Work, commonly called tha Four Books," was published at 
Malacca in 1828. 

t Sir J. Davis (The Chinese ii. 48) reckons only nine King, those enu- 
merated above. I presume that the remaining four enjoy an inferior 
degree of veneration. 



392 HOLY BOOKS. OB BIBLES. 

which it is at present in my power to speak of in detail are 
those classified as A 1 to A 4, and as B 2. 

The authenticity of these works is considered to be above 
reasonable suspicion; for though an emperor who reigned in 
the third century b. c, did indeed order (b. c. 212) that they 
should all be destroyed, yet this emperor died not long after 
the issue of his edict, which was formally abrogated after twen- 
ty-two years ; and subsequent dynasties took pains to preserve 
and recover the missing volumes. As it is of course improbable 
that every individual would obey the frantic order of the em- 
peror who enjoined their destruction, there appears to be sufQ- 
cient ground for Dr. Legge's conclusion, that we possess the 
actual works which were already extant in the time of Confu- 
cius, or (in so far as they referred to him) were compiled by his 
disciples or their immediate successors. 

Subdivision l.—The Lun Tu, 

1. The first of the four Books is the Lun Yu, or *' Digested 
Conversations.'.' From internal evidence it seems to have been 
compiled in its actual form, not by the immediate disciples of 
Confucius, but by their disciples. Its date would be *' about the 
end of the fourth, or beginning of the fifth, century before 
Christ ;" that is, about 400 B.C. It bears a nearer resemblance 
to the Christian Gospels than any other book contained in the 
Chinese Classics, being in fact a minute account, by admiring 
hands, of the behavior, character, and doctrine, of the great 
Master, Confucius. Since, however, it contains no notice of the 
events of his life in chronological order, it answers much more 
accurately to the description given by Papais of the ''Xoyi " com- 
posed by Matthew in the Hebrew dialect than to that of any 
of our canonical Gospels. 

Biographical materials may indeed be discovered in it; but 
they occur only as incidental allusions, subservient to the main 
object of preserving a record of his sayings. In the minute and 
painstaking mode in which this task is performed there is even 
a resemblance to Boswell's " Johnson ;" as in that celebrated 
work, we have as it were a photographic picture of the great 
man's conversation, taken hy a reverent and humble follower. 



THE TA HEO. 3d3 

Aud as there is a total absence of that fondness for the marvel- 
ous and that tendency to exaggerate the Master's powers which 
so generally characterize tradiiional accounts of religious teach- 
ers, we may fairly infer that we have here a trustworthy, aud 
in the main, accurate representation of Confucius' personality 
and of his teaching. As I have largely drawn upon this work 
in writing the Life of that prophet, I need not now detain the 
reader with any further quotations. 

Subdivision 2.—TJie Ta Heo. 

Passing to the Ta Heo, or Great Learning, we find ourselves 
occupied with a book which bears the same kind of relationship 
to the Lun Yu as the Epistle to the Hebrews does to the Gos- 
pels. This work is altogether of a doctrinal character; and as 
in the Epistle, the exposition of the doctrines is by no means so 
clear and simple as in the oral instructions of the founder of 
the school. The Ta Heo is attributed by Chinese tradition to 
K'ung Keih, the grandson of Confucius ; but its authorship is in 
fact, like that of the Epistle, unknown. It was added to the Le 
Ke, or Record of Rites, in the second century a.d. 

It begins with certain paragraphs which are attributed, ap- 
parently without authority, to Confucius ; and all that follows 
is supposed to be a commentary on this original text. The text 
begins thus:— 

1. "What the Great Learning teaches, is — to illustrate illus- 
trious virtue ; to renovate the people ; and to rest in the high- 
est excellence 

4. "The ancients who wished to illustrate illustrious virtue 
throughout the Empire, first ordered well their own States. 
Wishing to order well their States, they first regulated their 
families. Wishing to regulate their families, they first cultivated 
their persons. Wishing to cultivate their persons, they first rec- 
tified their hearts. Wishing to rectify their hearts, they first 
sought to be sincere in their thoughts. Wishing to be sincere 
in their thoughts, they first extended to the utmost their knowl- 
edge. Such extension of knowledge lay in the investigation of 
things." 

After a few more verses of text, we come to the "Commen- 



394: HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

tary of the philosopher Tsang," which is mainly occupied with 
what purports to be an explanation of the process described in 
the foregoing verses. For instance, the sixth chapter "explains 
making the thoughts sincere," the seventh, "rectifying the 
mind and cultivating'the person;" until at last we arrive at the 
right manner of conducting "the government of the State, and 
the making of the Empire peaceful and happy." The object of 
the treatise is therefore practical, and the subject a favorite 
one with the Chinese Classics, that of Government. Great 
stress is laid on the influence of a good example on the part of 
the ruler; and those model sovereigns, "Yaou and Shun,'' are 
appealed to as illustratioDS of its good effect in such hands s^s 
theirs. In the course of the exposition of these principles, we 
meet with dry maxims of political economy, worthy of niodern 
times, such as this:— 

"There is a great course also for the production of wealth. 
Let the producers be many and the consumers few. Let there 
be activity in the production, and economy in the expenditure. 
Then the wealth will always be sufficient" (Ta Heo). 

Subdivision Z.—TJie Chung Yung, 

The composition of the Chung Yung, or "Doctrine of the 
Mean," is universally attributed in China to K'ung Keih, or 
Tsze-sze, the grandson of Confucius. The external evidence of 
his authorship is, in Dr. Legge's opinion, sufficient; though if 
that which he has produced be all that is extant, it does not 
seem to be at all conclusive. Some quotations from it have 
already been made in the notice of Confucius, many of whose 
utterances are contained in it. 

Its principal object is, or seems to be, to inculcate the excel- 
lence of what is called "the Mean," but the explanation of 
what is intended by the Mean is far from clear. The course of 
the Mean, however, is that taken by the sage; the virtue which 
is according to the Mean is perfect; the superior man embodies 
it in his practice; ordinary men cannot keep to it; mean men 
act contrary to it; and Shun, a model emperor, "determined 
the Mean" between the bad and good elements in men, "and 
employed it in his government of the people." The Mean, from 



DOCTRINES OF CHUNG YUNG. 395 

the attributes thus assigned to it, would appear to be a state of 
complete and hardly attainable moral perfection, of which they 
who have offered an example in their conduct have (at least in 
modern times) been rare indeed. In the beginning of the 
treatise we learn that:— 

1. "What Heaven has conferred is called the nature; an ac- 
cordance with this nature is called the path of duty; the regu- 
lation of this path is called Instruction." 

4. ** "While there are no stirrings of pleasure, anger, sorrow 
or joy, the mind may be said to be in the state of Equilibrium. 
When those feelings have been stirred, and they act in their 
due degree, there ensues what may be called the state of Har- 
mony. This Equilibrium is the great root from which grow all 
the human actings in the world, and this Harmony is the uni- 
versal path which they all should pursue (The italics, here and in 
future quotations, are in Legge). 

5. "Let the states of equilibrium and harmony exist in per- 
fection, and a happy order will prevail throughout heaven and 
earth, and all things will be nourished and flourish " (Chung 
Yung). 

In another part of the work, "the path" is described as not 
being "far from the common indications of consciousness;" 
and the following rule is laid down with regard to it:— 

"When one cultivates to the utmost the principles of his 
nature, and exercises them on the principle of reciprocity, he 
is not far from the path. What you do not like, when done to 
yourself, do not do to others" (Ibid., xiii. 3). 

A large and important portion of the goodness required of 
those who would walk in the path is sincerity. Sincerity is 
declared to be the "way of Heaven" (Ibid., xx. 18), and it is 
laid down that " it is only he who is possessed of the most com- 
plete sincerity that can exist under Heaven, who can give its 
full development to his nature." Having this power, he is said 
to be able to give development to the natures of other men, 
animals, and things, and even "to assist the 'transforming and 
nourishing powers of Heaven and Earth," so that "he may 
with Heaven and Earth form a ternion " (Chung Yung, xx. 7). 

The doctrine of "Heaven" as a protecting power holds no 
inconsiderable place in this short treatise. Thus it is stated 



396 HOLY BOOKS. OB BIBLES. 

that *' Heaven, in the production of things, is surely bountiful to 
them, according to their qualities" (Ibid., xvii. 3). *' In order 
to linow men" the sovereign **may not dispense with a knowl- 
edge of Heaven" (Ibid., xxii). *' The way of Heaven and Earth 
may be completely declared in one sentence. They are without 
any doubleness, and so tliey produce things in a manner that is 
unfathomable. 

" The way of Heaven and Earth is large and substantial, 
high and brilliant, far reaching and long enduring" (Chung Yung, 
xxvi. 7, 8). 

And in a very high-flown passage on the character of the 
sage — said to refer to the author's grandfather — he is spoken 
of as "the equal of Heaven " (Ibid., xxxi. 3). 

Heaven, however, is not the only superhuman power that is 
mentioned in the Chung Yung. In one of its chapters Ve are 
told that Conrucius thus expressed himself :— 

'*How abundantly do spiritual beings display the powers 
that belong to them ! 

**We look for them, but do not see them; we listen to, but 
do not hear them ; yet they enter into all things, and there is 
nothing without them. 

" They cause all the people in the Empire to fast and purify 
themselves, and array themselves in their richest dresses, in 
order to attend at their sacrifices. Then, like overflowing water, 
they seem to be over the heads, and on the right and left of 
their worshipers^' (Chung Yung, xvi. 1-3). 

This positive expression of opinion is scarcely consistent 
with the habitual reserve of Kung-tse on subjects of this kind 
(Lun Yu, vii. 20), and were it not that it rests apparently on 
adequate authority, we might be tempted to reject it as apoc- 
ryphal. 

Subdivision 4:.— The works of Mang-tsze. 

The next place in the Chinese Scriptures is occupied by the 
works of Mang-tsze, the philosopher Mang, or as he is fre- 
quenty called, Mencius. Mang lived nearly two hundred 
years later than Confucius, having been born about 371, and 
having died in 288 b. c. He was not an original teacher assert- 
ing independent authority, and has no claim to the title of 



WORKS OF MANG. 397 

prophet. On the contrary, he was an avowed disciple of Con- 
fucius, to whose dicta he paid implicit reverence, and whom he 
quoted with the respect due to the exalted character which the 
sage had already acquired in the eyes of his school. 

The so-called "Works of Mane?" are not original composi- 
tions of this philosopher, but collections of his sayings, resem- 
bling the Lun Yu, or Confucian Analects. Whether he com- 
piled them, or took any part in their compilation himself, is 
uncertain. But, considering their character, the more probable 
hypothesis seems to be that they were committed to writing by 
his friends, or disciples, either during his own life, or immedi- 
ately after his death. 

The evidence of their antiquity and authenticity must be very 
briefly touched upon. The earliest notice of Mang is antecedent 
to the Ts'in dynasty (255-206 b. c), that is, within thirty-three 
3^ears after his death. We are indebted for it to Seun K'ing, 
who '* several times makes mention of " Mang, and who in one 
chapter of his works, "quotes his arguments and endeavors 
to set them aside." In the next place, we have accounts of 
him, and references to his writings, in K'ung Foo, prior to the 
Han dynasty, that is, before 206 b. c. Thirdly, he is quoted by 
writers from 186-178 b. c, under the Han dynasty. About 100 
B. c. occurs tho earliest mention now known of Mang's works. 
It emanates from Sze-ma Tseen, who attributes to Mang him- 
self the composition of ** seven books." While in a category of 
the date a. d. 1, the works of Mang are entered as being "in 
eleven books;" a discrepancy which has given rise to perplexi- 
ties among Chinese scholars, with which we need not concern 
ourselves. Suffice it to say, that Mang's works, as we now pos- 
sess them, consist only of seven books, and are not known to 
have ever consisted of more. 

This evidence would appear to be sufficient to prove the 
antiquity of the collection, though not its Mencian authorship. 
Whoever may have been its author, it was not admitted among 
the Sacred Books till many centuries after it had been received 
among scholars as a valuable, though not classical, work. Under 
the Sung dynasty, which began to reign about a. d. 960-970, the 
works of Mang were at length placed on a level with the Lun 
Yu, as part of the great Bible of China. 



398 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

On the whole, Mang's writings are of little interest for Euro- 
pean readers, and I shall not trouble mine with any elaborate 
account of them. They are mainly occupied with the question 
of the good government of the Empire. What constitutes a 
good ruler ? on what principles should the administration of 
public affairs be carried on? how can the people be rendered 
happy and the whole Empire prosperous? these are the sort of 
inquiries that chiefly engaged the attention of Mang, and to 
which he sought to furnish satisfactory replies. At the courts 
of the monarchs who received him, he inculcated benevolent 
conduct towards their subjects, with a paternal regard for their 
welfare, and sometimes boldly reproved unjust or negligent 
rulers. Holding, in common with the rest of his school, the 
doctrine of a superintendence of human affairs by a power 
named Heaven, he asserted in uncompromising terms the theory 
that Heaven expresses its will through the instrumentality of 
the people at large. "Vox populi, vox Dei," is the sentiment 
that animates the following passage, which contains one of the 
most courageous assertions of popular rights to be found in the 
productions of any age or country: — 

"Wan Chang said, *Was it the case that Yaou gave the 
empire to Shun?'* Mencius said, *No. The emperor cannot 
give the empire to another.' 

"'Yes; — but Shun had the empire. Who gave it to him?' 

"* Heaven gave it to him,' was the answer. 

" * Heaven gave it to him : — did Heaven confer its appoint- 
ment on him with specific injunctions ? ' 

'* Mencius replied, 'No. Heaven does not speak. It simply 
showed its will by his personal conduct, and his conduct of 
affairs.' 

" * It showed its will by his personal conduct and his conduct 
of affairs: — how was this?' Mencius' answer was, 'The empire 
[? emperor] can present a man to Heaven, but he cannot make 
Heaven give that man the empire. A prince can present a man 
to the emperor, but he cannot cause the emperor to make that 

* Yaou and Shun are the ideal Chinese emperors, and belong to a 
mythical age. Shun was not the legitimate successor of Yaou, who had 
raised him from poverty, and given him his two daughters in marriage. 
On Yaou's death, his son at first succeeded him, and Shun withdrew; but 
the latter was soon called to the throne by the general desire. 



MANG'S ASSERTION OF POPULAR RIGHTS. 399 

man a prince. A great officer can present a man to his prince, 
but he cannot cause the prince to make that man a great offi- 
cer. Yaou presented Shuu to Heaven, and the people accepted 
him. Therefore I say, Heaven does not speak. It simply indi- 
cated its will by his personal conduct and his conduct of affairs.' 

"Chang said, 'I presume to ask how it- was that Yaou pre- 
sented Shun to Heaven, and Heaven accepted him ; and that he 
exhibited him to the people, and the people accepted him." 
Mencius replied, *He caused him to preside over the sacrifices, 
and all the spirits were well pleased with them; — thus Heaven 
accepted him. He caused him to preside over the conduct of 
affairs, and affairs were well administered, so that the people 
reposed under him; — thus the people accepted him. Heaven 
gave the empire to him. The people gave it to him. Therefore 
I said. The emperor cannot give the empire to another. 

** * Shun assisted Yaou in the government for twenty and 
eight years; — this was more than man could have done, and 
was from Heaven. After the death of Yaou, when the three 
years' mourning was completed. Shun withdrew from the son 
of Yaou to the south of South river. The princes of the empire, 
however, repairing to court, went not to the son of Yaou, but 
they went to Shun, Singers sang not the son of Yaou, but they 
sang Shun. Therefore I said, Heaven gave him the empire. It 
was after these things that he went to the Middle kingdom, and 
occupied the emperor's seat. If he had, before these things, 
taken up his residence in the palace of Yaou, and had applied 
pressure to the son of Yaou, it would have been an aot of usur- 
pation, and not the gift of Heaven. 

** ' This sentiment is expressed in the words of The great 
DecleiTSition,— Heaven sees according as my people see; Heaven 
hears according as my people hear^" (The Italics are mine.— 
Mang-tsze, b. 5, pt. i. ch. v.) 

Mang's notion of what a really good government should do 
is fully explained at the end of the first part of the first book, 
in an exhortation to the king of Ts'e. His Majesty, he observed, 
should "institute a government whose action shall all be be- 
nevolent," for then his kingdom will be resorted to by officers 
of the court, farmers, merchants, and persons who are aggrieved 
by their own rulers. The king must take care "to reguhite ihe 



iOO HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

livelihood of people," in order that all may have enough for 
parents, wives, and children; for "they are only men of ed- 
ucation, who without a certain livelihood, are able to main- 
tain a fixed heart. As to the people, if they have not a cer- 
tain livelihood, it follows that they will not have a fixed 
heart. And if they have not a fixed heart, there is nothing 
which they will not do, in the way of self-abandonment, of 
moral deflection, of depravity, and of wild license. When they 
have thus been involved in crime, to follow them up and pun-^ 
ish them, — this is to entrap the people. How can such a thing 
as entrapping the people be done under the rule of a benevo- 
lent man?" With a view then to their material and moral 
well-being, mulberry trees should be planted, the breeding sea- 
sons of domestic animals he carefully attended to, the labor 
necessary to cultivate farms not be interfered with, and *<* care- 
ful attention paid to education in schools." And it has never 
been known that the ruler in whose State these things were 
duly performed "did not attain to the Imperial dignity" (Mang- 
tsze, b. 1 pt. i. ch. vii. p. 18-24). The only virtue required for 
"the attainment of Imperial sway" is "the love and protection 
of. the people ; with this there is no power which can prevent a 
ruler from attaining it" (Ibid., b. 1, pt. i. ch. vii. p. 3). In ac- 
cordance with his decided opinions as to the right of tlie peo- 
ple to be consulted in the appointment of their rulers, he ad- 
vised the same king to be guided entirely by popular feeling in 
assuming, or not assuming, the government of a neighboring 
territory which he had conquered* *' If the people of Yen will 
be pleased with your taking possession of it, then do so. . . . 
If the people of Yen will not be pleased with your taking pos- 
session of it, then do not do so" (Mang-tsze, b. 1, pt. ii. ch. x. 
p. 3). 

Mang was sometliing of a political economist as well as a 
statesman. There is in his writings a just and striking defense 
of the division of labor, in opposition to the primitive simplicity 
recommended by a man named Heu Hing, who wished the 
rulers to cultivate the soil with their own hands. Mang's 
answer to Heu Hing's disciple is in the form of an ad hominem 
argument, showing that, as Heu Hing himself does not manu- 
facture his own clothes or make his own pots and pans, but 



MANG A POLITICAL ECONOMIST. 40l 

obtains them in exchange for grain, in order that all his time 
may be devoted to agriculture, it is absurd to suppose that 
government is the only business which can advantageously he 
pursued along with husbandry, as Heu Hing desired (Mang- 
tsze, b. 1, pt. ii. oh. x. p. 3)., 

It was not enough, however, in Mang's eyes that a sovereign 
should conduct the government of his country in accordance 
with the great ethical and economical maxims he laid down ; 
he must also pay strict attention to the rules of Chinese eti- 
quette. On some occasions Mang insisted even haughtily on 
the observance towards himself of these rules by the princes who 
wished to see him, even though one of his own disciples plainly 
told him that in refusing to visit them because of their sup- 
posed failure to attend to such minutiae he seemed to him to 
be "standing on a small point" (Ibid., b. 3. pt. i. ch. iv). In 
fact the *' rules of propriety" held in his estimation no less a 
place than in that of his Master and predecessor. It is gratify- 
ing, however, to find him admitting that cases may arise where 
their operation should be suspended. Indecorous as it is for 
males and females to "allow their hands to touch in giving or 
receiving anything," yet when "a man's sister-in-law" is drown- 
ing he is permitted, and indeed bound to, " rescue her with the 
hand." Nay, Mang in his liberality goes further, and emphati- 
cally observes, that "he who would not so rescue a drowning 
woman is a wolf" (Mang-tsze, b. 4. pt. i. ch. xvii. p. 1). 

The most important doctrine of a moral character dwelt 
upon by Mang is that of the essential goodness of human 
nature, on which he lays considerable stress. According to him, 
"the tendency of man's nature to good is like the tendency of 
water to flow downwards," and it is shared by all, as all water 
flows downwards. You may indeed force water to go upwards 
by striking it, but the movement is unnatural, and it is equally 
contrary to the nature of men to be " made to do what is not 
good " (Ibid., b. 6, pt. i. ch. ii. pp. 2, 3). Taou and Shun were 
indeed great men, but all may be Yaous and Shuns, if only they 
will make the necessary effort (Ibid., b. 6, pt. ii. ch. ii. pp. 1-5). 
** Men's mouths agree in having the same relishes; their ears 
agree in enjoying the same sounds; their eyes agree in recog- 
nizing the same beauty;— shall their minds alone be without 



402 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

that which they similarly approve. What is it then of which 
they similarly approve ? It is, I say, the principles of our 
nature, and the determinations of righteousness. The sages only 
apprehended before me that of which my mind approves along 
with other men. Therefore the principles of our nature and the 
determinations of righteousness are agreeable to my mind, just 
as the flesh of grass [?-fed] and grain-fed animals is agreeable 
to my mouth" (Mang-tsze, b. 6, pt. i. ch. vii. p. 8). It ought 
not to be said that any man's mind is without benevolence and 
righteousness. But men lose their goodness as " the trees are 
denuded by axes and bills." The mind, "hewn down day after 
day," cannot *' retain its beauty." But *' the calm air of the 
morning" is favorable to the natural feelings of humanity, 
though they are destroyed again by the influences men come 
under during the day. *'This fettering takes place agai^ and 
again," and as "the restorative influence of the night" is insuf- 
ficient to preserve the native hue, "the nature becomes not 
much different from that of the irrational animals," and then 
people suppose it never had these original powers of goodness. 
"But does this condition," continues Mang, "represent the 
feelings proper to humanity?" (Ibid., b. 6, pt. i. ch. viii. p. 2 . 
What some of these feelings are he has plainly told us. Com- 
miseration, shame, and dislike, modesty and complaisance, 
approbation and disapprobation, are according to him four prin- 
ciples which men have just as they have their four limbs. The 
important point for all men to attend to is their development, 
for if they are but completely developed, " they will suffice to 
love and protect all within the four seas " (Ibid., b. 2, pt. i. ch. 
vi. pp. 5-7). And in another place he insists on the importance 
of studying and cultivating the nature which he asserts to be 
thus instinctively virtuous. " He who has exhausted all his 
mental constitution knows his nature. Knowing his nature, he 
knows Heaven. 

"To preserve one's mental constitution, and nourish one's 
nature, is the way to serve Heaven " (Ibid., b. 7, pt. i. ch. i. pp. 1, 2). 

The moral tone of Mang's writings is exalted and unbending, 
and evinces a man whose character will bear comparison with 
those of the greatest philosophers or most eminent Christians 
of the western world. 



THE SHOO KING. 403 



Subdivision 5.— The Shoo King. 

In this work are contaiiie<l the historical memorials of the 
Chinese Empire. The authentic history of China extends, as is 
well known, to an earlier date than that of any extant nation. 
It possesses records of events that occurred more than two 
thousand years before the Christian era, although these events 
are intermixed with fabulous incidents. '*From the time of 
T'ang the Successful, however," Dr. Legge informs us, "com- 
monly placed in the eighteenth century before Christ, we seem 
to be able to tread the field of history with a somewhat confi- 
dent step" (C. C. vol. iii. Proleg., p. 48). The exact dates, how- 
ever, cannot be fixed with certainty till the year 775 b. c. 
"Twenty centuries before our era the Chinese nation appears, 
beginning to be" (Ibid., p. 90). 

Without entering into the history of the text of the Shoo 
King, it may be stated that its fitty-eignt books may probably 
be accepted as '* substantially the same with those which were 
known to Seun-tsze, Mencius, Mih-tsze, Confucius himself, and 
others " (C. C, vol. iii. Proleg., p. 48). 

Its earliest books — which must be regarded as in great part 
legendary — contain accounts of three Cuinese Emperors — Yaou, 
Shun, and Yu — whose conduct is held up as a model to future 
ages, and who represent the beau ideal of a ruler to the Chinese 
mind. 

These admirable sovereigns were succeeded by men of very 
inferior virtue. T'ae-k'ang (b. c. 2187), the grandson of Yu, 
"pursued his pleasure and wanderings without* any restraint." 
An insurrection against his authority took place, and his five 
brothers took occasion to admonish him by repeating "the 
cautions of the great Yu in the form of songs." The first of 
these songs may be quoted as a good specimen of the doctrine 
of the Shoo King with reference to the imperial duties : — 

"It was the lesson of our great ancestor: — 
The people should be cherished ; 
They should not be down-trodden : 
The people are the root of a country; 



iOi HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

The root firm, the country is tranquil. 

When I look throughout the empire. 

Of the simple men and simple women, 

Any one may surpass me, 

If I, the one man, err repeatedly: — 

Should dissatisfaction be waited for till it appears? 

Before it is seen, it should be guarded against. 

In my relation to the millions of the people, 

I should feel as much anxiety as if I were driving six horses with 

rotten reins. 
The ruler of men — 
How can he be but reverent of Ms duty f * 

Many successive dynasties, comprising sovereigns of various 
characters, succeed these original Emperors. Throughout the 
Shoo King we find great stress laid on the doctrine, that the 
rulers of the land enjoy the protection of Heaven only so long 
as their government is good. Should the prince become tyran- 
nical, dissolute, or neglectful of his exalted duties, the favor of 
the Divine Power is withdrawn from him and conferred upon 
another, who is thus enabled to drive him from the throne he 
is no longer worthy to fill. The emphatic and reiterated asser- 
tion of this revolutionary theory is very remarkable. Thus, a 
king who has himself just effected the overthrow of an incom- 
petent dynasty, is represented as addressing this discourse to 
the "myriad regions:" — 

"Ah! ye multitudes of the myriad regions, listen clearly to 
the announcement of me, the one man. The great God has 
conferred even on the inferior people a moral sense, compliance 
with which would show their nature invariably right (the same 
doctrine insisted on by Mang). But to cause them tranquilly to 
pursue the course which it would indicate, is the work of the 
sovereign. 

"The king of Hea (the monarch whom the speaker had 
superseded,) extinguished his virtue and played the tyrant, ex- 
tending his oppression over you, the people of the myriad 
regions. Suffering from his cruel injuries, and unable to endure 
the wormwood and poison, you protested with one accord your 

• Shoo King. b. 8, pt. iii. ch. i. pp. 6, 7. 



CHINESE SAGES REBUKING KINGS. 405 

innocetice to the spirits of heaven and earth. Th5 way of 
Heaven is to bless the good and punish the bad^ It sent down 
calamities on the House of Hea, to make manifest its crimes. 

" Therefore I, the little child, charged with the decree of 
Heaven and its bright terrors, did not dare to forgive the crim- 
inal. I presume to use a dark-colored victim, and making clear 
announcement to the spiritual Sovereign of the high heavens, 
requested leave to deal with the ruler of Hea as a criminal. 
Then I sought for the great sage, with whom I might unite my 
strength, to request the favor of Heaven on behalf of you, my 
multitudes. High Heaven truly showed its favor to the inferior 
people, and the criminal has been degraded and subjected '* 
(Shoo King, iv. 3. 2). 

It is true that this speech, proceeding from an interested 
party naturally anxious to set his own conduct in the fairest 
light, is liable to suspicion, But there is abundant evidence in 
the pages of the Shoo King that the views expressed above were 
participated in by its writers, who constantly hold the fate that 
befalls wicked Emperors as a punishment from Heaven, and 
laud those who effect their own downfall as Heaven's agents. 
They also frequently introduce sage advisers who reprove the 
reigning Emperor for his faults, gnd admonish him to walk in 
the ways of virtue in a spirit of the utmost frankness. One of 
these monarchs candidly confesses the benefit he has derived 
from the instructions of such a counselor, whose lessons have 
led him to effect a complete reformation of his character (Ibid., 
iv. 5. pt. ii). Another charged his minister to be constantly 
presenting instructions to aid his virtue, and to act towards him 
as medicine which should cure his sickness (Ibid., iv. 8. pt. i. 
5-8). If, however, a dynasty persisted in its evil courses, in 
spite of all the warnings it might receive, it was doomed to 
perish. Losing the attachment of the people, it fell undefended 
and unregretted. Such was the case with the house of Tin. 
The Viscount of Wei, who is stated by old authorities to have 
been a brother of the Emperor, thus described its career: — 

"The Yiscount of Wei spoke to the following effect: — 
' Grand Tutor and Junior Tutor, the Souse of Yin, we may con- 
clude, can no longer exercise rule over the four quarters of the 
empire. The great deeds of our founder were displayed in for- 



406 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

mer ages, but by our being lost and maddened with wine, we 
have destroyed the effects of his virtue, in these after times. 
The people of Yin, small and great, are given to highway rob- 
beries, villainies, and treachery. The nobles and ofQcers imi- 
tate one another in violating the laws; and for criminals there 
is no certainty that they will be apprehended. The lesser people 
consequently rise up, and make violent outrages on one another. 
The dynasty of Yin is now sinking in ruin; — its condition is 
like that of one crossing a large stream, who can find- neither 
ford nor bank. That Yin should be hurrying to ruin at the 
present pace ! ' — 

**He added, 'Grand Tutor and Junior Tutor, we are mani- 
festing insanity. The venerable of our families have withdrawn 
to the wilds; and now you indicate nothing, but tell me of the 
impending ruin;— what is to be done?' 

"The Grand Tutor made about the following reply : — 'King's 
son, Heaven in anger is sending down calamities, and wasting 
the country of Yin.' " And after mentioning the crimes of the 
Emperor, he proceeds : — "' When ruin overtakes Shang, I will 
not be the servant of another dynasty. But I tell you, O king's 
son, to go away as being the course for you. . . . Let us 
rest quietly in our several parts, and present ourselves to the 
former kings. I do not think of making my escape'" (Shoo 
King, iv. 11). 

In another portion of the Shoo the causes which lead to the 
preservation or loss of Heaven's favor are thus described by 
** The Duke of Chow : "— " The favor of Heaven is not easily pre- 
served. Heaven is hard to be depended on. Men lose its fav- 
oring appointment because they cannot pursue and carry out 
the reverence and brilliant virtue of their forefathers." Again: 
— "Heaven is not to be trusted. Our course is simply to seek 
the prolongation of the virtue of the Tranquilizing king, and 
Heaven will not find occasion to remove its favoring decree 
which King Wan received " (Shoo King, xvi. 1). 

The paramount importance "to the national welfare of a wise 
selection of ministers and officials receives its full share of 
attention in the Chinese Bible. The Duke of Ts'in, another 
province of the Empire, is represented as speaking thus: — 

**I have deeply thought and concluded ; —Let me have but 



THE SHE KING. 407 

one resolute minister, plain and sincere, without other abilities, 
but having a simple, complacent mind, and possessed of gener- 
osity, regarding the talents of others, as if he himself possessed 
them : and when he finds accomplished and sage-like men, lov- 
ing them in his heart more than his mouth expresses, really- 
showing himself able to bear them:— such a minister would be 
able to preserve my descendants and my people, and would 
indeed be a giver of benefits ' (Shoo King, v. 30. See also v, 
19. 2). 

These extracts, without giving an adequate notion of the 
very miscellaneous contents of the Shoo King, a work which 
could not be accomplished without an undue extension of the 
subdivision referring to it, will serve to show that its moral 
tone on matters relating to the government of a nation is not 
inferior to that of any of the productions of classical or Hebrew 
antiquity. 

Subdivision 6. — The She King. 

Whatever sanctity or authority may attach to the She King 
in the minds of the Chinese, must belong to it solely on account 
of its antiquity, for there is certainly nothing in the character 
of its contents that should entitle it to a place in the consecrated 
literature of a nation. Similar phenomena, however, are not 
unknown among more devout races than the Chinese. Thus 
the Hebrews admitted into their Canon the Books of Kuth and 
Esther, and the Song of Solomon, which contain but little of an 
edifying nature, though, full of human interest. The same may 
be said of the She King. The play of human emotions is viv- 
idly represented in it, but there is not much in which moral or 
religious lessons are to be found, except by doing violence to 
the text. 

The She King is a collection of ancient poems. Tradition 
attributes the arrangement and selection of the Odes now con- 
tained in it to Confucius, who is supposed to have selected 
them in accordance with some wise design from a much larger 
number. The present translator, however, assigns reasons for 
rejecting this tradition, and for believing that the She King was 
current in China long before his time in a form not very differ- 
ent from that in which we now possess it. At the present day. 



408 HOLY BOOKS. OB BIBLES. 

its songs have not lost their ancient popularity, for it is stated 
that they are "the favorite study of the better informed at the 
present remote .period. Every well-educated Chinese has the 
most celebrated pieces by heart, and there are constant allusions 
to them in modern poetry and writings of all kinds" (Davis' 
Chinese, ii. 60). 

The poems, which were collected from many different prov- 
inces, relate to a great variety of subjects. Some are political, 
some domestic, some sacrificial, others festive. We have rulers 
addressing the princes of their kingdom in laudatory terms, and 
princes in their turn extolling the ruler; complaints of unem- 
ployed politicians, and groans from oppressed subjects; hus- 
bands deploring their absence from their wives on military ser- 
vice; forlorn wives longing for the return of absent husbands; 
stanzas written by lovers to their mistresses, and maidens' in- 
vocations of their lovers; along with a few allusions to amatory 
transactions of a more questionable character. All these mis- 
cellaneous matters are-treated in short, simple, and rather monot- 
onous poems, which, if they have any beauty in the original, 
have completely lost it in the process of translation. There is 
sometimes pathos in the feelings uttered; but the expressions 
are of the most direct and unornamental kind, and the whole 
book partakes largely of that artlessness which we have noted 
asone of the ordinary marks of Sacred Books. 

A few specimens will suffice. Here is the "protest of a 
widow against being urged to marry again:"— 

1. "It floats about, that boat of cypress wood, 

There in the middle of the Ho. 

With his two tufts of hair falling over his forehead; 

He was my mate; 

And I swear that till death I will have no other. 

O mother, O Heaven, 

Why will you not understand me? 

2. "It floats about, that boat of cypress wood. 

There by the side of the Ho. 

With his two tufts of hair falling over liis forehead; 

He was my only one; 



SPECIMEN ODES FEOM THE SHE KING. 409 

And I swear that till death I will not do the evil thing. 

O mother, O Heaven, 

Why will you not understand me?"* 

In the following lines a young lady begs her lover to be 
more cautious in his advances, and that in a tone which may 
remind us of Nausikaa's request to Odysseus to walk at some 
distance behind her, lest the busybodies of the town should take 
occasion to gossip:— 

1. "I pray you, Mr. Chung, 

Do not come leaping into my hamlet; 

Do not break my willow-trees. 

Do I care for them? 

But I fear my parents. 

You, O Chung, are to be loved, 

But the words of my parents 

Are also to be feared. 

2. '* I pray you; Mr, Chung, 

Do not come leaping over my wall; 
Do not break my mulberry-trees. 
Do I care for them? 
But I fear the words of my brothers. 
You, O Chung, are to be loved. 
But the words of my brothers 
Are also to be feared. 

3. "I pray you, Mr. Chung, 

Do not come leaping into my garden; 
Do not break my sandal-trees. 
' Do I care for them? 
But I dread the talk of people, 
You, O Chung, are to be loved. 
But the talk of people 
Is also to ba feared, "f 

The following Ode, conceived in a different spirit, Avill serve 
to illustrate one of the most prominent features of Chinese 

♦ She King. i. 4. l. t She King. 1. 7. 2. 



410 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

character as depicted in these ancient books,— its filial piety. 
It is supposed to be the composition of a young monarch who 
has just succeeded to the government of his kingdom :— 

** Alas for me, who am [as] a little child. 
On whom has devolved the unsettled State 1 
Solitary am I and full of distress. 
Oh my great Father, 
All thy life long, thou wast filial. 

" Thou didst think of my great grandfather, 

[Seeing him, as it were] ascending and descending in the court. 

I, the little child,* 

Day and night will he so reverent. 
"Oh ye great kings, 

As your successor, I will strive not to forget you.''f 

Subdivision 7.~The Cli'un Tsew. 

According to Chinese tradition, the Ch'un Ts'ew, or Spring 
and Autumn, was the production of Confucius himself; not 
indeed his original composition, but a compilation made by him 
from preexisting sources. , The title of Cli'un Ts'Sw was not of 
.his owD making. It was the name already in use for the annals 
of the several States. The annals were arranged under the four 
seasons of each year, and then two of the seasons — Spring and 
Autumn— were used as an abbreviated term for all the four. 
And so strictly is this principle of parceling out the annals of 
each year under the several seasons adhered to in the work, 
that even when there is no event to be recorded we have such 
entries as these: "It was summer, the fourth month." "It 
was winter, the tenth month." 

The classical Ch'un Ts'ew was compiled from the Ch'un 
Ts'ew of the State of Loo. It is even doubtful whether Confu- 
cius did anything more than copy what he found in the annals 
of that country. Dr. Legge evidently inclines to the belief that 

* Not literally a child. "Little child" is the usual style of Chinese 
rulers when designing to express feelings of modesty and religious rever- 
ence. 

t She King, iv. 1. [iii,] X. 



GENTHNENESS OP CH'UN TS'EW CRITICIZED. 411 

he altered Dothing. At any rate, the work can only be regarded 
as very particularly his own. More than this, it is questionable 
whether the text we have at present is that of the original 
Ch'un Ts'ew at all. This classic is indeed said to have been 
recovered in the Han dynasty after the destruction of the 
book. But there are circumstances which may well make us 
hesitate before we accept the Chinese account of this recovery 
as a fact. Mang, who had the best opportunities of knowing 
what his master was believed to have written, if not what he 
actually had written, speaks of the Ch'un Ts'ew in terms 
wholly inapplicable to the work before us. He asserts expressly 
that it was composed by him because right principles had dwin- 
dled away, because unseemly language and unrighteous deeds 
were common, and he attributes to its completion the result 
that *' rebellious ministers and villainous sons were struck with 
terror." Now we may allow what limits we please for the exag- 
geration natural to a disciple when speaking of the labors of 
a revered master. But can we believe that Mang, a man whose 
own teaching proves him to have been a moderate and sensible 
thinker, would have spoken thus of a compilation which from 
beginning to end contains absolutely no moral principles what- 
ever? Yet suoh is the case with the ''Spring and Autumn" as 
we possess it. There is not in it the faintest glimmer of an 
ethical judgment on the historical events which it records. A 
birth, an eclipse, a fall of snow, a plague of insects, a murder, 
a battle, the death of a ruler, are all chronicled in the same 
dry, lifeless, unvarying style. Nowhere would it be possible for 
an unprejudiced critic to detect the opinions of the compiler, or 
to gather from his words that he viewed a virtuous action with 
more favor than an abominable crime. Such being the case, I 
hesitate, notwithstanding the high authority of Dr. Legge, to 
accept the genuineness of this work as beyond cavil. 

It has in fact been questioned in China, not indeed on very 
valid grounds, by a scholar whose letter he has translated in 
his Prolegomena, and he himself candidly acknowledges the 
extreme difficulty of reconciling the character of our present text 
with the statement of Mang. But he considers the external tes- 
timony to the recovery of the book sufficiently weighty to. dis- 
pose of this and other difficulties. Yet, without disputing the 



4aa HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

strength of the grounds on which this conclusion rests, we may 
still permit ourselves to entertain a modest doubt whether this 
compilation was really the handiwork of such a man as we 
know Confucius to have been, and that doubt will be strength- 
ened when we recall the common tendency of the popular mind 
to connect the authorship of standard works with names of 
high repute. And the bare existence of such a doubt will com- 
pel us to suspend our judgment on the very serious charges of 
misrepresentation and falsehood which Dr. Legge has brought 
against Confucius in his capacity of historian. If the actual 
Ch'un Ts'ew be shown to be identical with that edited by Con- 
fucius, and if he simply adopted, without alteration, or with 
very trivial alteration, the labors of his predecessors, the gravity 
of -these charges will be very considerably diminished. For we 
know not but what some feeling of respect for that wh^ch he 
found already recorded may have stayed his hand from revision 
and improvement. 

Passing to the work itself, we shall find little in it worthy 
of attention, unless by those who may be desirous of studying 
the history of China. Chinese commentators have indeed dis- 
covered all kiads of recondite meanings in it, as is usually the 
case with the commentators on Sacred Books, but these are of 
no more value than the similar discoveries of types' and mystic 
foreshadowings in the Hebrew Scriptures. In itself, the text is 
profoundly uninteresting. Here is one of the shortest chapters 
as a specimen. The title of the Book from which it is taken is 
" Duke Chwang : "— 

XXVL 1. "In his twenty-sixth year, in spring, the duke invaded 
the Jung. 

2. *'In summer, the duke arrived from the invasion of the Jung. 
8. "Ts'aou put to death one of its great officers. 

4. "In autumn, the duke joined an officer of Sung and an officer 
of Ts'e in invading Seu. 

5. "In winter, in the twelfth month, on Kwei-hae, the first day 
of the moon, the sun was eclipsed" (Ch'un Ts'Ow, iii. 26). 

The events noted in these annals refer to various States — 
for it appears that the several States were in the habit of com- 
municating remarkable occurrences to each other — but they 



THE TAO-TE-KING. 413 

are of a very limited class, and are invariably recorded in the 
brief manner of the chapter that has just been quoted. Eclipses 
of the sun are duly registered, and the record thus acquires a 
chronological value of high importance in historical researches. 
Among the other facts commonly mentioned are sacrifices for 
rain, which occur very frequently; wars, with the results of 
great battles; the marriages or deaths of rulers and important 
persons; their journeys; occasionally their murder; meetings 
of rulers for the purpose of common action in matters of State ; 
diplomatic missions, invasions of locusts or other troublesome 
insects ; and lastly, peculiarities of various kinds in the state of 
the^-eather. It is plain that annals of this kind have no relig- 
ious significance beyond that which they derive from the mere 
fact of being reputed sacred. And in this aspect the Oh'un 
Ts'ew is certainly curious. Having been assigned — rightly or 
wrongly — to the pen of the prophet of China, it seems to have 
become a point of honor with Chinese scholars to extract from 
it, by hook or by crook, the profoundest lessons on politics and 
morals. 

Section II. — The Tao-te-King.* 

There are in China three recognized sects or '*religiones 
licitae:" — Confucianism, Buddhism, and Tao-ism. We have 
examined the Sacred Books of the first; those of the second 
will come under review in another section. There remains the 
comparatively small and unimportant sect of the Ta5-sse, or 
"Doctors of Reason," who derive their origin from Lao-tse, 
and who possess as their classic the single written composition 
which emanated from their founder. It is entitled the Tao-te- 
King. 

Ancient as this book is (probably about e.g. 520), there is no 

* By far the best European -work on the Tao-te-Kingr is that of Victor 
von Strauss, and I have followed his translation, though not without con- 
sulting those of others. I am fully sensible of the inconvenience of a 
double translation, and I should have preferred to follow Chalmers' Eng- 
lish rendering of Lao-tse, had not the obscurity of his version been so 
great as to render it almost unintelligible to the general reader. Reinhold 
von Planckner's translation errs on the other side by excess of clearness. 
It is a palpable attempt to force upon the ancient Chinaman a connected 
system professedly unraveled from the text by the ingenuity of the modern 
German. It should be used only with extreme caution, or not at all. 



414 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

reason to doubt its authenticity.* This is sufficiently guaranteed 
by quotations from it which are found in authors belonging to 
the fourth century b.c, and by the fact that a scholar who 
wrote in B.C. 163 made it the subject of a commentary, which 
accompanies it sentence by sentence. Nor does Chinese tradi- 
tion state that it perished in the Burning of the Books (b.c. 212- 
209), which was a measure leveled against the Confucian 
school, and took place under an Emperor who was favorable to 
the Tad-sse. "We may safely conclude that we are in possession 
of the genuine composition of the ancient philosopher (T. T. K., 
•Ixxiii., Ixxiv). 

Of the three words which compose its title, King has ali^ady 
been explained (Supra p. 30). The full meaning of Tao will 
appear in the sequel: we may here term it the Absolute. Te 
means Virtue; and the title would thus imply either that this 
Canonical Book deals with the Absolute and with Virtue, or 
with that kind of virtue which emanates from, and is founded 
upon, a belief in and a spiritual union with the Absolute. f 

Whatever the signification of its name, its principal subjects 
undoubtedly are Ta6 and Te: the Supreme Principle and human 
Virtue. Let us see what is Lao-tse's description of Tao, the 
great fundamental Being on whom his. whole system rests. 
"Tao, if it can be pronounced, is not the eternal Tao. The 
Name, if it can be named, is not the eternal Name. The Name- 
less One is the foundation of Heaven and Earth ; he who has a 
Name is the Mother of all beings " (Ch. 1). These enigmatical 
sentences open the Tao philosophy. The idea that Tao is 
unnameable is a prominent one in the author's mind, although 

* It deserves to be noted, as a peculiarity of the Chinese prophets — 
Confucius and Lao-tse — that they alone among their peers have left 
authentic written compositions. The Koran can scarcely be said to have 
been written by Mahomet, in the sense in which we talk of writing a book. 
And neither Zarathustra, Jesus, nor the Buddha, -wore authors. The 
calmer Chinese temperament permitted, in the ease of these two great 
teachers, a mode of conveying instructions which is repugnant, as a rule, 
to the fervid prophetic nature. Observe that of the Jewish (so-called) 
prophets, those who committed their prophecies to writing, generally 
belonged to a comparatively late age, in which oral prophecy was no 
longer in vogue, and the state of feeling that had inspired it no longer 
prevalent. 

t The former view is that of Stan. Julien ; the latter that of von Planck- 
ner. 



DESCRIPTION OF TAO. 415 

he seems also to recognize a subordinate creative principle — 
like the Gnostic -^ons — which is nameable. Thus we read: 

" Tao, the Eternal has no Name He who begins to 

create, has a Name" (Ch. 32). Again: ''For ever and ever it is 
unnameable. and returns into non-existence.'* Or; "I know 
not its Name; if I describe it, I call it Tao" (Ch. 25). We are 
reminded of Faust's reply in Goethe : — 

"Ich habe keineri Namen 
Dafiir? Geftihl ist alles; 
Name ist Schall und Ranch 
Umnebelnd Himmelsgluth."" 

Nor is Tao only without a Name; it is sometimes described 
as if devoid of all intelligible attributes. Thus, in one chapter, 
we learn that it is eternally without action, and yet without 
non-action (Ch. 37). Nay, the entire absence of all activity is 
not uiifrequeutly predicated of Tao, whose great merit is stated 
to be complete quiescence. Tao is moreover incomprehensible, 
inconceivable, undiscoverable, obscure (Ch. 21). Its upper part 
is not clear, its lower part not obscure. It returns into non- 
existence. It is the form of the Formless ; the image of the 
Imageless (Ch. 14). Mysterious as this Being is, yet in other 
places attributes are ascribed to it which go far to elucidate the 
author's conception of its nature. Productive energy, for in- 
stance, is plainly attributed to Tao, for it is stated that Tao pro- 
duces one, one two, and two three, while three produces all 
creatures (Ch. 32). The following account is less mystical: 
"Tao produces them [creatures], its Might preserves them, its 
essence forms them, its power perfects them : therefore of all 
beings there is none that does not adore Tao, and honor its 
Might. The adoration of Tao, the honoring of its Might, is com- 
manded by no. one and is always spontaneous. For Tao pro- 
duces them, preserves them, brings them up, fashions them, 
perfects them, ripens them, cherishes them, protects them. 
To produce and not possess, to act and not expect, to bring up 
and not control, this is called sublime Virtue."* In addition 
to these creative and preservative qualities, it has moral 

* Ch.. 51. I have borrowed soi^ie expressions from Chalmers, 0, P. 



416 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

attributes of the highest order. Thus, its Spirit is supremely 
trustworthy. In it is faithfulness (Ch. 21.) All beings trust to it 
in order to live. When a work is completed, it does not call it its 
own. Loving and nourishing all beings, it still does not lord 
it over them. It is eternally without desire. All beings turn 
to it, yet it does not lord it over them (Ch., 34). It is emi- 
nently straightforward. It dwells only with those who are 
not occupied with the luxuries of this world (Ch., 53). Nay, it 
is altogether perfect (Ch., 25). The last assertion is found in a 
chapter which, as it is probably the most important in the 
book for the purpose of understauding the theology of the 
author, deserves to be translated in full: — "There existed a 
Being, inconceivably perfect, before Heaven and Earth arose. 
So still! so supersensible! It alone remains and does not 
change. It pervades all and is not endangered. It may be re- 
garded as the Mother of the World. I know not its name; if 
I describe it, I call it Tao. Concerned to give it a Name, I call 
it Great ; as great, I call it Immense ; as immense, I call it Dis- 
tant ; as distant, I call it Eeturning. For Tao is great ; Heaven 
is great; the Earth is great; the King is also great. In the 
world there are many kinds of greatness, and the King remains 
one of them. The measure of Man is the earth; the measure 
of earth. Heaven ; the measure of Heaven, Tao ; Tao's measure 
itself."* 

Such is the picture of Tao; but the Tao-te-king is much 
more than a treatise on theology ; it is even more conspicuously 
a treatise on morals. Tao is indeed the transcendental founda- 
tion on which the ethical superstructure is raised; but the 
superstructure occupies a much more considerable space than 
the foundation, and seems to have been the main practical end 
for which the latter was laid down. Intermingled with the 
image of Tao we find the image of the good man, or, as we 
may call him, in Scriptural phraseology, the righteous man ; an 
ideal of perfect virtue, whom the author holds up, not as an 
actual person, but as an imaginary model for the guidance of 
human conduct. By patting together the scattered traits of his 

* Ch., 25. For the sake of enabling the reader to compare the interpre- 
tations of this important chapter given by various Sinologues, I subjoin 
in an appendix four other translations. 



LA.O-TSE ON THE RIGHTEOUS MAN. 417 

character, we may arrive at a tolerable comprehension of the 
author's conception of perfect goodness. In the first place, the 
righteous man is in harmony in his actions with Tao ; he be- 
comes one with Tao, and Tao rejoices to receive him (Ch., 23). 
He places himself in the background, and by that very means 
is brought forward (Ch., 7). He does not regard himself, and 
therefore shines ; he is not just to himself, and is therefore dis- 
tinguished; does not praise himself, and is therefore meritori- 
ous; does not exalt himself, and is therefore preeminent. As 
he does not dispute, none can dispute with him (Ch., 22). If he 
acts, he sets no store by his action; for he does not wish to 
render his wisdom conspicuous (Ch., 77). He knows himself, but 
does not regard himself; loves himself, but does not set a high 
price on himself (Ch., 72). Unwilling lightly to promise great 
things, he is thereby able to accomplish the more ; by treating 
things as difficult, he finds nothing too difficult during his 
whole life (Ch. 63). Inaccessible alike to friendship and enmity, 
uninfluenced by personal advantage or injurj^, by honor or dis- 
honor, he is honored by all the world (Ch., 56). He is charac- 
terized by quiet earnestness ; should he possess splendid palaces, 
he inhabits them or quits them with equal calm (Ch., 26). He 
clothes himself in wool (a very coarse material in China), and 
hides his jewels (Ch., 70). He is ever ready to help others; tor 
the good man is the educator of the bad, the bad man the 
treasure of the good (Ch., 27). "The righteous man does not ac- 
cumulate. The more he spends on others, the more he has ; the 
more he gives to others, the richer he is" (Ch., 81). He who 
knows others is clever; he who knows himself is enlightened'* 
(Ch. 33). Thus the sage, like Socrates, makes vcSBi deavrov a 
main principle of his conduct. Should he be called to the 
administration of the realm, he adopts a policy of laisser faire, 
for he has observed the evils produced by over-legislation. It 
is his belief that if he be inactive, the people will improve by 
themselves ; if he be quiet, they will become honorable ; if he 
abstain from intermeddling, they will become rich; if ho be 
free from desires, they will become simple (Ch., 57). Com- 
pelled to engage in war, he will not make use of conquest to 
triumph or exalt himself, neither will he take violent measures 
(Ch. 30). Mercy is a quality that must not be despised; the 



418 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

merciful will conquer in battle (Ch. 67). Endowed with these 
characteristics, the good man need fear nothing. Like Horace's 

** Integer vitse scelerisque purus," 

he is preserved from danger. The horn of the rhinoceros, the 
claws of the tiger, the blade of the sword, cannot hurt him 
(Ch., 50). He is like a new-born child: serpents do not sting it, 
nor wild beasts seize it, nor birds of prey attack it.* 

A few features, which do not directly enter into the delinea- 
tion of the character of the sage, must still be added to com- 
plete that image. And first, a prominent place must be assigned 
to a quality which is a large ingredient in Lao-tse's conception 
of goodness, both human and divine. It is that of gentleness, 
or, as he would call it, weakness. Tt is a favorite principle of 
his, that the weak things of the earth overcome the strong, 
and that they overcome in virtue of that very weakness. He 
has an aversion to all conspicuous exercise of force. The deity 
of his philosophy is one who is indeed all-powerful, but who 
never displays his power. The method of Heaven— and it 
should also be that of man— is apparent yielding, leading "to 
real supremacy. *'It strives not, yet is able to overcome. It 
speaks not, yet is able to obtain an answer. It summons not, 
yet men come to it of their own accord; is long-suffering, y^t 
is able to su^bceed in its designs" (Ch., 73). The superiority of 
the weak — or the seeming weak — to the strong, is further illus- 
trated by Lao-tse in several parallels. We enter life soft and 
feeble; we quit it hard and strong. Therefore softness and 
feebleness are the companions of life; hardness and strength of 
death (Ch., 76). And does not the wife overcome her husband 
by her quietness? (Ch., 61.) Is not water the softest and weak- 
est of all things in the world, 3^et is there anything which ever 
attacks the hard and strong that is able to surpass it? (Ch., 78.) 
Thus, the most yielding of all substances overcomes the most 
iaflexible. Hence is manifest the advantage of inactivity and 
of silence (Ch., 43). It is fully in accordance with these notions 
that Lao-tse should distinctly deprecate warfare, and should 
assert that the most competent general will not be warlike. 

* Ch. 55. Von Strauss explains this to mean that he is like the child in its 
unconsciousness of danger from these sources. 



LAO-TSE'S DISLIKE OP LUXURY. 419 

Calmly conscious of his power, he is not quarrelsome or eager 
for battle, and thus possessing the virtue of peaceable and 
patient strength, he becomes the peer of Heaven (Ch., 68). War 
is altogether to be condemned, as pregnant with calamity to 
tho state (Ch., 30). "The most beauteous weapons are instru- 
ments of misfortune; all creatures abhor them; therefore he 
who has Tao does not employ them." They are not the instru- 
ments of the wise man. If he must needs resort to them, yet 
he still values peace and quietness as the highest aims. He 
conquers with reluctance. "He who has killed many men, let 
him weep for them with grief and compassion. He who has con- 
quered in battle, let him stand as at a funeral pomp" (Ch., 31). 
Another striking characteristic of Lao-tse's moral system is 
his dislike of luxury, and his earnest injunction to all men to 
be contented with modest circumstances. We have seen that 
the sage is depicted as wearing coarse clothing, and Lao-tse 
considers that the very presence of considerable riches indicates 
the absence of Tao from the minds of their possessors. As we 
should express it, the devotion to worldly wealth is inconsistent 
with a spiritual life. "To wear fine clothes, to carry sharp 
swords, to be filled with drink and victuals, to have a superflu- 
ity of costly gems, this is to make a parade of robbery (Or, this 
is "magnificent robbery," O. P., p. 41); truly not to have Tao" 
(Ch., 53). Moreover, the very pomp of the palace leads to un- 
cultivated fields and empty barns (Ibid). Lao-tse therefore 
warns every one not to consider his abode too narrow or his 
life too confined. If we do not think it too confined, it will not 
be so (Ch., 72). Nay, he goes further, and asserts that the 
world is best known by staying at home. The further a man 
goes, the less he knows (Ch., 47). A truly virtuous and well- 
governed people will never care to travel beyond its own limits. 
To such a people its food will be so sweet, its clothing so beau- 
tiful, its dwellings so comfortable, and its customs so dear, that 
it will never visit the territory of its neighbors, even though 
that territory should lie so close that the cackling of the hens 
and the barking of the dogs may be heard across the boundary 
(Ch., 80). 

It results from the above exposition of his ethical principles 
that La5-tse insists mainly upon three virtues : Modesty, Benev- 



420 HOLY BOOKS. OE BIBLES. 

olence, and Contentment, "For my part," he says himself, 
"I have three treasures; I guard them and greatly prize them. 
The first is called Mercy,* the second is called Frugality, the 
third is called Not daring to be first in the kingdom. Mercy — 
therefore lean be brave; Frugality — therefore I can give away; 
Not daring to be first in the kingdom — therefore I can become 
the first of the. gifted ones" (Ch. 67). 

Of all the sacred books, the Tao-te-king is the most philo- 
sophical. It stands, indeed, on the borderland between a rev- 
elation and a system of philosoph3% partaking to some extent 
of the nature of both. Since, however, it forms the fundamental 
classic of a religious sect, and since it has engaged in its inter- 
pretation a multitude of commentators,f it appears to be fully 
entitled to a place among Scriptures. Not indeed that the Chi- 
nese regard it as a revelation in the same sense in which nations 
of a more theological cast of mind apply that term to the books 
composing their Canon. But I see no reason to doubt that the 
Tao-sse, however little they attend to its precepts, yet treat it 
as a work of unapproachable perfection and unquestionable 
truth. Indeed, the writer of a fabulous life of Lao-tse, who 
lived many centuries after his death, expressly ascribes to it 
those peculiar qualities which, as we have seen, are the special 
attributes of sacred books (L. Y. V., pp. xxxi., xxxii). 

To the European reader who approaches it for the first time 
it will probably appear a perplexing study. Participating largely 
in that disorder and confusedness which characterizes the class 
of literature to which it belongs, it presents, in addition, con- 
siderable difQculties peculiarly its own. The correct translation 
of many passages is doubtful. The sense of still more is ambig- 
uous and obscure. Lao-tse is fond of paradox, and his constant 
employment of paradoxical antithesis seems specially designed 
to puzzle the reader. If his doctrine was understood by few, it 
must be confessed that this was partly his own fault. More- 

* Or Compassionateness. Chalmers translates "compassion," but this 
term denotes the sentiment rather than the virtue. 

t See their names in Le Livre de la Voie et de la Vertu (hereafter 
abbreviated thus — L. V. V.). Compose dans le VI Sieele avant I'ere 
ehretienne par le Philosophe Lao-Tseu. Traduit en Francais el publie 
avec le texte ehinois par Stanislas Julien. 8vo. Paris, 1872. xxxvi. 



LAO-TSE'S CONCEPTIONS OF DEITY. 421 

over, the reverence with which he speaks of Ta6, and the care 
with which he insists that Tao does nothing, seem at first sight 
inconsistent. We feel ourselves in an atmosphere of hopeless 
mysticism. Nevertheless, these superficial troubles vanish, or 
at least retire into the background, after repeated perusals of 
the work. There are few books that gain more on continued 
acquaintance. Every successive study reveals more and more 
of a wisdom and a beauty which we miss at first in the obscur- 
ity and strangeness of the style. 

And first, Tao itself turns out to be a less incomprehensible 
and contradictory being than we originally supposed. Por 
although he may sometimes be spoken of as doing nothing, or 
even as destitute of all distinct qualities, yet other attributes 
expressly exclude the notion of absolute inaction. A being 
which creates, cherishes and loves, and in which all the world 
implicitly trusts, is not the kind of nonentity that can be de- 
scribed as wholly devoid of "action, thought, judgment, and 
intelligence."* Moreover, it is to be borne in mind that the 
sage is to imitate Ta6 in the quality— for which he is highly 
lauded — of doing nothing. The two pictures, that of Tao and 
his follower, must be held side by side in order to be correctly 
understood. Now what is the peculiar beauty, from a philo- 
sophical point of view, of the order of Nature ? It is that all 
its parts harmoniously perform their several offices, without 
any violent or conspicuous intrusion of the presiding principle 
which guides them all. 

Other teachers, indeed, have seen God mainly in violent and 
convulsive manifestations, and have appealed to miraculous 
suspensions of natural order as the best proofs of his exist- 
ence. Not so Lao-tse. He sees him in the quiet, unobtrusive, 
unapparent guidance of the world ; in the unseen, yet irresist- 
ible power to which mankind unresistingly submit, precisely 
because it is never thrust offensively upon them. The Deity of 
La5-ts4 is free from those gross and unlovely elements which 
degrade his character in so many other religions. He rules by 

* Such Is the description of M. Julien, derived from the most ancient 
Chinese commentators. I am at a loss to reconcile it even with his own 
translation, though it would be presumptuous in me to deny that the 
learned Sinologue may have reasons for it of which I am not aware.— See 
L. V. v.. p. xlii. 



422 HOLY BOOKS, OB BIBLES. 

gentleness and love, not by vindictiveness and anger. So should 
it be with the holy man who takes him for his model. Assur- 
edly we> are not to understand those passages which enjoin 
quiescence so earnestly upon him as a meaning that he is to 
lead a life of absolute indolence. Like Tao, he is to guide 
his fellow-creatures rather by the beauty of his conduct than 
by positive commands laid imperatively upon them. Let him 
but be a shining example; they will be drawn towards him. 
The activity from which a wise ruler is to abstain is the vexa- 
tious multiplication of laws and edicts, which do harm rather 
than good. But neither ruler nor philosopher is told to do 
nothing; for benevolence, love, and the requital of good for 
evil, to say nothing of other positive virtues, are most strictly 
enjoined on all. Lao-tse himself no doubt lived, and loved, a 
retired contemplative life. This is the kind of existence which 
he evidently considered the most perfect and the most godlike. 
He counsels his followers to be wholly unambitious, and to 
abstain from all active pursuit of political honor. Such counsel 
might possibly be well adapted to the time in which he lived. 
But none the less does he lay down rules for the guidance of 
kings, statesmen,- and warriors, in their several spheres. Nor 
is the book wanting in pithy apothegms applicable to all, and 
remarkable alike for the wisdom of their substance and the 
neatness of their form. Whether, in short, we look to the sim- 
plicity and grandeur of its speculative doctrine, or to the unim- 
peachable excellence of its moral teaching, we shall find few 
among the great productions of the human mind that evince, 
from beginning to end, so lofty a spirit and so pure a strain. 



APPENDIX TO SECTION II. 

Translations of the Tao-te-Eing, ch. 25. 

Abel Remusat. — "Avant le chaos qui a precede la naissance du 
ciel et de la terre, un seul ^tre existait, immense et silencieux, immuable 
et toujours agissant sans jamais s'alterer. On pent le regarder comme 
la mere de I'univers. J'ignore son nom, mais je le designe par le mot de 
raison. 

Force de lui donner un nom, je I'appelle grandeur, progression, eloig- 
nement, opposilion. II y a dans le monde quatre grandeurs ; celle de la 
raison, celle du ciele, cell de la terre, celle du roi, qui est aussi une des 
quatre. L'homme a son type et son modele dans la terre, la terre dans 
le ciel, le ciel dans la raison, la raison en elle-m^me.'' * 

Stanislas Julien. — " II est un §tre confus qui existait avant le ciel 
et la terre. 

O qu'il est calmel O qu'il est immateriell 

II subsiste seul et ne change point. 

II circule partout et ne periclite point. 

II pent Stre regarde comme la m^re de I'univers. 

Moi, je ue sais pas son nom. 

Pour lui donner un titie, je I'appelle Vote (Tao). 

En m'effor^ant de lui f aire un nom, je I'appelle grand. 

De grand, je Tappelle /wgrace. 

Defugace, je I'appelle eloiqne. 

D'eloigne, je I'appelle (I'^tre) qui revient 

C'est pourquoi le Tao est grand, le ciel est grand, la terre est grande, 
le roi aussi est grand. 

Dans le monde, il y a quatre grandes choses, et le roi en est une. 

* Memoire sur la Vie et les Opinions de Lao-tseu, par M. Abel Remusat, 
Paris. 1823, p. 27. 

423 



424: HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

L'homme imite la terre; la terre imite le ciel; le ciel imite le Tao ; 
le Tao; le Tao imite sa nature " (L. V. V., p. 35). 

John Chalmeks. — "There is something chaotic in nature which 
existed before heaven and earth. It was still. It was void. It stood 
alone and was not changed. It pervaded everywhere and was not en- 
dangered. It may be regarded as the Mother of the Universe. I know 
not its name, but give it the title of Tau. If I am forced to make a 
name for it, I s^y it is Great; being great, I say that it passes away; 
passing away, I say that it is far off; being far off, I say that it returns. 

Now Tau is great; Heaven is -great; Earth is great; a king is great. 
In the universe there are four greatnesses, and a king is one of them. 
Man takes his law from the Earth; the Earth takes its law from Heaven; 
Heaven takes its law from Tau; and Tau takes its law from what is in 
itself "(0. P., p. 18). 

Keinhold von Planckner. — "Es existirt ein das All erftijlendes, 
durchaus vollkommenes Wesen, das friiher war denn der Himmel und 
die Erde. Es existirt da in erhabener Stille, es ist ewig und unveran- 
derllch, und oline Anstoss dringt es tiberall hin, iiberall da. 

Man mochte es als den Schopfer der Welt anshen. Seinen Namen 
weiss ich nicht, ich nenne es am liebsten das Tao; soil ich diesem eine 
bezeichnende Eigenschaft beilegen, so wiirde es die der hochsten Erhab- 
enheit sein. 

Ja, erhaben ist das Wesen, um das sich das. All und AUes im All 
bewegt, als solches muss es ewig sein, und wie es ewig ist, ist es f olg- 
lich auch allgegenwartig. 

Ja das Tao ist erhaben, erhaben ist auch der Himmel, erhaben die 
Erde, erhaben ist auch das Ideal des Menschen. So sind denn vier 
erhabene Wesen im Universum, und das Ideal des Meschen ist ohne 
Zweifel eins derselben. 

Denn der Mensch stammt von der Erde, die Erde stammt vom Him- 
mel, der Himmel stammt vom Tao. — Und das Tao stammt ohne Frage 
allein aus sich selbst " (L. T., p. 113). 



Section III.— The Veda.* 

The word Veda is explained by Sanskrit scholars as meaning 
Icnomng or knowledge, and as being related to the Greek oida. 
The works comprised tinder this designation are manifold, and 
appertain to widely different epochs. In the first place they fall 
into two main classes, the Sanhitdsnid the Br dhmana. The San- 
hita portion of the Veda consists of hymns or metrical compo- 
sitions addressed to the several deities worshiped by their 
authors, and expressing religious sentiment ; the Brahmana por- 
tion, of theological treatises in prose of an expository, ritualistic 
and didactic character. Across this subdivision into two classes 
there runs another of the whole Veda into four so-called 
Vedas, the Kig-Veda, the Yajur-Veda, the Sama-Veda, and the 
Atharva-Veda. Each of these has its own Sanhitas, and its own 
Brahmanas; but the Sanhita, or hymns, of the three other 



• The literature of the Veda is now copious. To mention only a few 
works, H. H. Wilson published a translation of the first five Ashtakas of 
the Rig-Veda-Sanhita, but I have forborne to make use of it, from a con- 
viction that the advance of Vedic scholarship has to a great degree, if not 
wholly, superseded the methods of interpretation employed by him. Ben- 
fey has translated the whole of the Sama-Veda-Sanhita into German, and I 
have studied his translation, but have preferred to rely mainly on the 
labors of English scholars, both because the inherent obscurity of these 
ancient hymns might be increased by the process of re-translation, and 
also because I might possibly fail to catch the exact shade of meaning of 
the German words. His work should, however, be consulted by those who 
desire to acquaint themselves with the style of the Veda. Max Muller has 
unhappily published but one volume of his translation of the Rig-Veda- 
Sanhita, which is doubtless destined (if completed) to boeome the standard 
English version of that portion of the text. The same eminent scholar has 
translated many of the hymns in his '* Ancient Sanskrit Literature." 
Another source from which I have derived valuable assistance is Dr. 
Muir's laborious work entitled " Original Sanskrit Texts." Such are the 
principal authorities on the hymns. Of the Brahmanas, the whole of the 
Aitareya Brahmana has been translated by Haug, and portions of others 
by Roer and by Rajendralal Mitra. 

425 



426 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

Yedas are not materially different from those of the Eig-Veda. 
On the Eig-Yeda they are all founded; this is the fundamental 
Veda, or great Veda; and in knowing this one we should know 
all. The other three, according to Max Miiller, contain "chieily 
extracts from the Eig-Veda, together with sacrificial formulas, 
charms, and incantations" (Chips, vol. i. p. 9). It must not 
therefore be imagined that we have in these four Vedas four 
different collections of hymns. They are rather four different 
versions of the same collection, the Sama-Veda, for instance, 
containing but seventy-one verses which are wanting in the Eig- 
Veda (S. v., p. xxviii), and being otherwise "little more than a 
repetition of the Soma Mandala of the Eich " (Wilson, vol. i. p. 
xxxvii), or of that book of the Eig-Veda which is devoted to the 
god Soma. The Atharva-Veda-Sanhita is indeed to a certain 
extent an exception; belonging to a later age, it ha^ some 
hymns altogether peculiar to itself, and its fifteenth book *'has 
something of the nature of a Brahmana" (O. S. T., vol. i. p. 2). 
It must be noted, moreover, that of the Yajur-Veda there are 
two different versions, the Black and the White Yajur-Veda, 
said to have descended from two rival schools. The hymns of 
the first are termed the Taittiriya-Sanhita, those of the second 
the Vajasaneyi-Sanhita. 

The origin of those four distinct, yet not different Vedas, is 
thus explained. In certain sacrifices, formerly celebrated in 
India, four classes of priests were required, each class being 
destined for the performance of distinct offices. To such of 
these classes was assigned one of the Vedas, which contained 
the hymns required by that class. Thus the Sama-Veda was 
the prayer-book of the Udgatri priests, or choristers, who chant 
the hymns. The Yajur-Veda was the prayer-book of the Adh- 
varyu priests, or attendant ministers, who prepare the ground, 
slay the victims, and so forth. The Atharva-Veda was said to 
be intended for the Brahman who was, according to one of the 
Brahmanas, the "physician of the sacrifice;" the general super- 
intendent who was to tell if any mistake had been committed 
in it (A. B., 5. 5.— vol. ii. p. 376). For the fourth class, the Hotri 
priests, or reciters of hymns, no special- collection was made in 
the form of a liturgy.. They used the Eig-Veda, a collection of 
the hymns in general without any special object, and they were 



THE FOUE VEDAS. 427 

supposed to know the sacred poetry without the help of a 
prayer-book (A. S. L., pp 175, 473, and Chips, vol. i. p. 9). 

Originally preserved by scattered individuals (for the Mantra 
part of the Vedas, [or their Sanhita] was composed in an age 
when writing was not in use), the hymns were subsequently col- 
lected and arranged in their present form : a task which Indian 
tradition assigns to Vyasa, the Arranger, but which was proba- 
bly the work of many different scholars, possibly during many 
generations. The same tradition asserts that each Veda was 
collected, under Vyasa's superintendence, by a different editor ; 
and that the collections, transmitted from these primary com- 
pilers to their disciples, were, in the course of transmission, re- 
arranged in various ways, until the number of Sanhitas of each 
Veda in circulation was very considerable. Each school had its 
own version, but the differences are supposed by Wilson to have 
concerned only the order, not the matter of the Suktas. 

The extreme antiquity of our extant Veda is guaranteed by 
the amplest testimony. In the indexes compiled by native 
scholars 500 or 600 years before Christ, "we find every hymn, 
every verse, every word and syllable of the Veda accurately 
counted" (Chips, vol. i. p. 11). Before this was done, not only 
was the whole vast collection complete, but it was ancient; for 
had it been a recent composition it would not have enjoyed the 
preeminent sanctity which rendered it the object of this minute 
attention. And not only is the Veda ancient, but it has been 
shown that, from the variety of its component strata, it must 
have been the growth of no small period of time, its earliest 
elements being of an almost unfathomable antiquity. Max 
Mtiller, who has elaborately treated this question, divides the 
Vaidik age — the age during which the Veda was in process of 
formation — into four great *epochs. The most primitive hymns 
of the Kig-Veda he attributes to what he terms the CJihandas 
period (from Chhandas, or metre), the limits of which cannot be 
fixed in the ascending direction, but which descends no later 
than 1000 B.C. And he thinks that ''we cannnot well assign a 
date more recent than 1200 to 1500 before our era" (Ibid., vol. i. 
p. 13.) for the composition of these hymns. The ten books of 
the Rig- Veda, however, comprise the poetry of two different 
ages. Some of the hymns betray a more recent origin, and 



428 HOLT BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

must be assigned to the second, or Mantra period. These com- 
paratively modern compositions belong to a time which may 
have extended from about 1000 to about 800 B.C. After this we 
enter on the Brahmana period, in which the Kig-Veda-Sanhita 
not only existed, but had reached the stage of being misinter- 
preted, its original sense having been forgotten. During this 
period — which we may place from B.C. 800 to 600 — the national 
thought took the form of prose, and the Brahmanas were 
written. Here the age of a^ctually-inspired literature terminates, 
and we arrive at the Sutra period, which may have lasted till 
200 B.C. Works of high authority, but not in the strict sense re- 
vealed works, were produced during these four hundred years (A. 
S. L., passim). An equal, or greater antiquity is usually claimed 
by other Sanskritists for these several classes of sacred litera- 
ture. Wilson would place Manu (who belongs to the Sutra 
period) not lower than the fifth or sixth century; the Brahmana 
literature in the seventh or eighth; and would allow at least 
four or five centuries before this for the composition and cur- 
rency of the hymns, thus reaching the date of 1200 or 1300 before 
the Christian era (Wilson, vol. i. p. xlvii). 

Haug, who believes that "a strict distinction between a 
Chhandas and Mantra period is hardly admissible," and that 
certain sacrificial formulas, considered by Max Miiller to be 
more recent, are in fact some centuries older than the finished 
hymns ascribed by that scholar to the Chhandas age, carries 
back the composition of both Sanhita and Brahmana to a much 
earlier date. "The bulk of the Brahmanas" he assigns to b.c. 
1400-1200; and "the bulk of the Sanhitas " to B.C. 2000-1400; 
while '* the oldest hymns and sacrificial formulas may be a few 
hundred years more ancient still," and thus *'the very com- 
mencement of Yedic literature " might be between B.C. 2400 and 
2000 (A. B., vol. i. pp. 47. 48). While Benfey, considering that 
the Pratisakhyas (a branch of the Sutras) must have been com- 
posed from B.C. 800 to 600, observes that the text of the Sama- 
Veda must extend beyond this epoch (S. V., p. xxix. 

Of the several Sanhitas, that of the Eig-Veda (whose name 
is derived from a word rich, praise) is usually considered the 
most ancient, though Benfey expresses the opinion that the 
text of the Sama-Veda may possibly be borrowed from an older 



THE YEDA ALONE INSPIRED. 429 

version of the Rig- Veda than before us (Ibid., p. xxix). Max 
Muller, on the other hand, conceives the Sama and Yajur-Vedas 
to have been probably the production of the Brahmana period 
(A. S. L. p. 457). He even denies to any but the Rich the right 
to be called Veda at all (Chips, vol. i. p. 9). Whatever claim, 
or want of claim, they may possess to the honor, it is certain 
that they have for more than 2,000 years invariably received it 
at the hands of the Hindus themselves. So far from admitting 
the preeminence of the Rich, the ancient Hindus, according to 
one of their descendants, held the Sama in the highest venera- 
tion (Chhand. Up., introduction, p. 1). If a doubt can exist as 
to the canonicity of any one of them, it can only apply to the 
Atharva-Veda ; for in certain texts we find mention nmde of 
three Vedas only, the Atharva, from its comparatively late 
origin, having apparently been long denied the privilege of 
admission to an equal rank with its compeers. 

Whatever their antiquity, the sanctity of these works in 
Indian opinion is of the highest order. Never has the theory 
of inspiration been pushed to such an extreme. The Veda was 
the direct creation of Brahma; and the Rishis, or Sages, who 
are the nominal authors of the hymns, did not compose them, 
but simply "saw" them. Althoagii, therefore, the name of 
one of these seers is coupled with each hymn, it must not be 
supposed that he did more than perceive the divine poem which 
was revealed to his privileged vision. And the Veda is distin- 
guished as Sruti, Revelation, from the Smriti, Tradition, under 
which term is included a great variety of works enjoying a high, 
but not an independent, authority. They are to be accepted, in 
theory at least, only when they agree with the Veda, and to be 
set aside if they happen to differ from it; while no such thing 
as a contradiction within the body of the Veda is for a moment 
to be thought of as possible, apparent inconsistencies being 
only due to our imperfect interpretations. The Sruti class com- 
prises only the Mantra of each Veda and its Brahmahas; the 
Smriti consists of the great national epics, namely the Ramay- 
ana and Mahabharata; the Manava-Dbarma-Sastra, or Menu; 
the Puranas; the Sutras, or aphorisms; and the so-called six 
Vedangas, a term indicating six branches of study carried on 
by the help of treatises on the pronunciation, grammar, metre, 



430 HOLY BOOKS, OE BIBLES. 

explanation of words, astronomy, and ceremonial of the Veda. 
How thoroughly the Yeda was analyzed, how minutely every 
word of it was investigated, is shown by the fact that these 
Vedangas all have direct reference to it, and were intended to 
assist in its comprehension. And in ancient times it was the 
duty of Brahmans to be well acquainted both with the Stiktas 
(hymns), and with their application to ritual. A Brahman, 
indeed, who wanted to marry was not obliged to devote more 
than twelve years to learning the Veda, but an unmarrying 
Brahman might spend forty-eight years upon it (A. S. L., p. 503). 

Subdivision l. — The Sanhita. 

Passing now to a more detailed consideration of the Mantra 
division, we find that the Elg-Veda-Sanhita— the most compre- 
hensive specimen of this division — comprises more t^an a 
thousand short poems, of which the vast majority are addressed 
to one or more of the Indian gods. A few only, and those be- 
lieved 'to be of later origin, are of a different character. This 
collection is divided in two wa^^^s; into ten Mandalas, or eight 
Ashtakas, the two divisions being quite independent of one 
another. Under each of these greater heads are several lesser 
ones, which it is needless to enumerate. The deities to whom 
the hymns are devoted are exceedingly various and numerous, 
but as this is not an essay specially intended to elucidate the 
Veda, but aiming only at a general comparison of this with 
other sacred books, it would be going beyond our scope to 
attempt a full account of their several names, attributes, and 
honors. A few only of the more conspicuous gods need be 
noticed. 

Of these, Agni, as the one with whose praises the Big- Veda 
opens, and who, next to Indra, is the principal character in the 
Vedic hymnology, claims our attention first. He is the god of 
fire, or more literally, he is the fire itself, and a god at the 
same time. His name is almost identical with the Latin Ignis. 
He is frequently spoken of as generated by the rubbing of 
sticks, for in this manner did the Bishis kindle the fire required 
for their sacrifices. The sudden birth of the fiery element in 
consequence of this process must have impressed them as pro- 



PRAISES OF AGNI. THE FIRE -GOD. 431 

foundly mysterious. They allude to it under various images. 
Thus, the upper stick is said to impregnate the lower, which 
brings forth Agni. He is the bearer of human sacrifices to the 
gods ; a kind of telegraph from earth to heaven. Many are the 
blessings asked of him. But let the Kishis speak for them- 
selves. Here is the first Sukta of the Kig-Veda-Sanhita : — 

1. "I praise Agni, the household priest, the divine offerer of the 
sacrifice, the inviter who keeps all treasures. 2. AgDi, worthy of the 
praises of the ancient Rishis, and also of ours, do thou bring hither the 
gods. 3. By Agni, tlie sacrificer enjoys wealth, that grows from day to 
day, confers renown, and surrounds him with heroes. 4. Agni, the 
sacrifice which thou keepest from all sides uninvaded, approaches surely 
the gods. 5. Agni, inviter, performer of gracious deeds, thou who art 
truthful, and who shinest with various glories, come' thou, O God, 
with the gods. 6. The prosperity, which thou, O Agni, bestowest upon 
the worshiper, will be in truth a prosperity to thee, O Angiras. 7. We 
approach thee in our minds, O Agni, day after day, by night and day, to 
offer thee our adoration. 8. Thee the radiant guardian of the meet 
reward of the sacrifices, who is resplendent and increasing in his sacred 
house. 9. Be thou, O Agni, accessible to us, as a father is to the son; 
be near us for our welfare " (Roer, p. 1). 

Even more important than Agni is Indra, the great national 
god of the Hindus. He is above all things a combative god. 
His strength is immense, and his worshipers implore him to 
give them victory and power. He slays the demon Yrittra, 
a myth symbolizing the dispersion of clouds by the sun. 
Above all, he loves the juice of the Soma plant {Asclepias 
acida), which is poured out to him abundantly in sacrifice, which 
he consumes with avidity, and from which he derives renewed 
force and energy. These two stanzas, taken from the Sama- 
Veda, express some of his attributes: — 

"Thou, O Indra, art sjlorious, thou art victorious, thou art the lord 
of strength; thou conquerest the strong enemies singly and alone, thou 
unconquered refuge of men. To thee, living One, we pray; to thee 
now the very wise, for treasures, as for our share; may thy blessing be 
granted us" (S. V., ii. 6. 2. 12). 



432 HOLY BOOKS, OR BIBLES. 

The following hymn brings into especial prominence the 
more warlike functions of Indra, and may be regarded as a 
prayer "in the time of war and tumults:" — 

8. " May Indra be the leader of these (our armies); may Brihaspati, 
Largess, Sacrifice and Soma march in front; may the host of Maruts 
precede the crushing, victorious armies of the gods. May the fierce host 
of the vigorous Indra, of King Varuna, of the Adityas, and the Maruts 
(go before us); the shout of the great-souled, conquering, world-shaking 
gods, has ascended. ... 10. Rouse, O opulent god, the weapons, 
rouse the souls of our warriors, stimulate the power of the mighty men; 
may shouts arise from the conquering chariots. 11. May Indra be ours 
when the standards clash; may our arrows be victorious ; may our 
strong men gain the upper-hand; preserve us, O gods, in the fray. 12. 
Bewildering the hearts of our enemies, O Apv^ (Apv§, is explained as a 
disease or fear), take possession of their limbs and pass onward; come 
near, burn them with fires in their hearts ; may our enemies fall into 
blind darkness " (0. S. T., vol. v. p. 110.— Rig- Veda, x. 103). 

Indra 's Soma-drinking propensities are not particularly allud- 
ed to in these verses : elsewhere they form the ever-recurring 
burden of the chants of which he is the hero. Thus, to take 
but one specimen, which, by its resemblance to others, may 
fitly stand for all, he is thus lauded: — 

1. "May the Somas delight thee! bestow grace, O hurler of light- 
ning! destroy him who hates the priest. 2. Thou who art praisewor- 
thy, drink our drink ! thou art sprinkled with streams of honey 1 from 
thee, O Indra, glory is derived. ... 4. The Indus (the Somas) 
stream into thee, like rivers, Indra! into the sea, and never overfill 
thee" (S. v., i. 1. 1). 

Indra is, in fact, the Zeus of Indian mythology; the thunderer, 
the god of the sky, the all-powerful protecter of men and de- 
stroyer of the demons of darkness. His functions are easily 
understood, but it is curious that the Soma, which is offered to 
him in sacrifice, and which he drinks with all the avidity of a 
confirmed toper, is itself celebrated as a god of very considera- 
ble powers. Soma appears to be regarded as a sort of mediator 
between the greatest gods and men, especially between man and 



INDRA AND THE SOMA. 433 

India. He is repeatedly entreated to goto Indri, to flow around 
him, and thus to conciliate and delight him. But Soma can 
confer benefits independently. One poet implores him to stream 
forth blessing "on the ox, the man, and the horse; and, O 
king, blessings on plants " (S. Y., ii. 1. 1. 1). In the hymns de- 
voted to him he is raised to an exalted station among the celes- 
tial beings, while the sacrifice in which he is drunk by the 
priests is the capital right in the Brahmanical liturgy (A. B., 
vol, i. p. 59). ' The most eminent virtues are inherent in this 
divine beverage, when taken with all the ceremonies prescribed 
by traditional law. The Soma juice has, in the opinion of Hindu 
theologians, "the power of uniting the sacrificer on this earth 
with the celestial King Soma." and making him '' an associate 
of the gods, and an inhabitant of the celestial world" (Ibid., 
vol. i. pp. 40, 80), Such was the excellence of tliis juice, that 
none but Brahmans were permitted to imbibe it. Kings, at 
their inaugural ceremonies, received a goblet which was nom- 
inally Soma, but on account of their inferior caste they were in 
fact put off with some kind of spirituous liquor which was sup- 
posed, by a mystical transformation, to receive the properties 
of that most holy divinity (Ibid., vol. ii. p. 522). Agreeably to 
this theory of Soma's extensive powers, he is invoked in such 
terms, for instance, as 'these: — 

7. "Place me, O purified god, in. that everlasting and imperish- 
able world where there is eternal light and glory. O Indu (Soma), 
flow for Indra. 8. Make me immortal in the world where king Vaivas- 
vata (Yama, the son of Vivasvat) lives, where is the innermost sphere 
of the sky, where those great waters flow " (O. S. T. vol. v. p. 266. — 
Rig-Veda, ix. 113). 

Singular as it may seem that the juice of the Soma-plant 
should be at once an object sacrificed on the altar to other gods 
and a god himself, such a confusion of attributes will be less 
surprising to those who are familiar with the Christian theory 
of the Atonement, in which the same God is at once the per- 
son who decrees the sacrifice, the person who accepts it, and 
the victim. At least the double function of Soma is less per- 
plexing than the triple function of Christ. 
, Considerable among Vedic deities are the Maruts, or gods of 



434: HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

tempest. They are in intimate alliance with Indra, to whom 
their violent nature is closely akin. Their attributes are simple. 
A notion of them may perhaps be gained from these verses : — 

' 1. " What then now? When will you take (us) as a dear father takes 
his son by both hands, O ye gods, for 'whom the sacred grass has been 
trimmed ? 2. Whither now ? On what errand of yours are you going, 
in heaven, not on earth ? Where are your cows sporting ? 3. Where 
are your newest favors, O Maruts ? Where the blessings ? Where 
all delights ? . . . 6. Let not one sin after another, difficult to be 
conquered, overcome us; may it depart together with lust. 7. Truly 
they are furious and powerful; even to the desert the Rudriyas bring 
rain that is never dried up. 8. The lightning lows like a cow, it follows 
as a mother follows after her young, that the shower (of the Maruts) 
may be let loose. 9. Even by day the Maruts create darkness with the 
water-bearing cloud, when they drench the earth. 10. From the shout 
of the Maruts over the whole space of the earth, men reeled forward. 
11. Maruts on your strong-hoofed steeds go on easy roads after those 
bright ones (the clouds) which are still locked up. 12. May your felloes 
be strong, the chariots, and their horses ; may your reins be well fash- 
ioned. 13. Speak out forever with thy voice to praise the Lord of 
prayer, Agni, who is like a friend, the bright one. 14. Fashion a hymn 
in thy mouth! Expand like a cloud ! Sing a soug of praise. 15. Wor- 
ship the host of the Maruts, the brisk, the praiseworthy, the singers. 
May the strong ones stay here among us " (R. V. S., vol. i. p. 65. — Rig- 
Veda, 1. 38). 

The most charming member of the Vedic pantheon, and the 
one who seems to have called forth from the Rishis the deepest 
poetical feeling, is Ushas (".E&js), the Dawn. Her continual re- 
appearance, or birth, morning after morning, seems to have 
filled them with delight and tenderness. The hymn now to be 
quoted — too long to be extracted in full — gives expression to 
the feelings with which they gazed upon this ever-recurring 
mystery : — 

2. " The fair and bright Ushas, with her bright child (the Sun), hns 
arrived; to her the dark (night) has relinquished her abodes; kindred to 
one another, immortal, alternating Day and Night go on changing color. 
3. The same is the never-ending path of the two sisters, which they 



VABUNA. THE GOD OF NIGHT 435 

travel, commanded by the gods. They strive not, they rest not, the 
prolific Night and Dawn, concordant, though unlike. 4. The shining 
Ushas, leader of joyful voices (or hymns) has been perceived; she has 
opened for us the doors (of the sky); setting in motion all moving 
things, she has revealed to us riches. Ushas has awakened all creatures. 
. . . 6. (Arousing) one to seek royal power, another to follow after 
fame, another for grand efforts, another to pursue as it were his particu- 
lar object, — Ushas awakes all creatures to consider their different 
modes of life. 7. She, the daughter of the sky, has been beheld break- 
ing forth, youthful clad in shining attire: mistress of all earthly treas- 
ures. Auspicious Ushas, shine here to-day. 8. Ushas follows the track 
of the Dawns that are past, and is the first of the unnumbered Dawns 
that are to come, breaking forth, arousing life and awaking every one 
that was dead. ... 10. How great is the interval that lies between 
the Dawns which have arisen, and those which are yet to arise! Ushas 
yearns longingly after the former Dawns, and gladly goes on shining 
with the others (that are to come). 11. Those mortals are gone who 
saw the earliest Ushas dawning; we shall gaze upon her now; and the 
men are coming who are to behold her on future morns. ... 13. 
Perpetually in former days did the divine Ushas dawn; and now to-day 
the magnificent goddess beams upon this world: undecaying, immor- 
tal, she marches on by her own will" (O. S. T., vol. v. p. 188. — Rig- 
Veda, i. 113). 

Hardly a trace of a moral element is to be found in those 
productions of the Rishis which have hitherto been quoted. 
And such as these are is the general character of the Rig-Veda- 
Sanhita. It consists in petitions for purely material advantages, 
coupled with unbounded celebrations of the power of the god 
invoked, often under the coarsest anthropomorphic images. 
But while it must be admitted that the sentiment expressed is 
rarely of a high order, it must not be supposed that the old 
Hindu gods are altogether destitute of ethical attributes. 
Marked exceptions to the general tenor of the supplications 
offered to them certainly occur. There are passages which 
betray a decided consciousness of sin, a desire to be forgiven and 
a conviction that certain kinds of conduct entail divine disap- 
probation, while other kinds bring divine approbation. Thus, 
in the hymns addressed to the Adityas, a class of gods generally 



436 HOLY BOOKS. OB BIBLES. 

reckoned as twelve in number, and to Mitra and Varuna, two 
of these Adityas, such feelings are plainly expressed (O. S. T., 
vol. V. p. 56 ff). Of these two, Mitra is soraetimes explained as 
the Sun, or the god of Day, Varuna as the god of Night. 
Yaruna — whose name corresponds to that of Ouranos — is a 
very great and powerful divinity, who is endowed by his adorers 
with the very highest attributes. He is said to have meted 
out heaven and earth, and to dwell in all worlds as their 
sovereign, embracing them within him (Ibid., vol v. p. 61). He 
is said to witness sin, and is entreated to have mercy on sin- 
ners. One penitent poet implores Varuna to tell him for what 
offense he seeks to kill his worshiper and friend, for all the 
sages tell him that it is Varuna who is angry with him. And 
he pleadingly contends that he was not an intentional culprit; 
he has been seduced by *'wine, anger, dice, or thoughtlessness." 
Another begs the god that, in whatever way mortals may have 
broken his laws, he will be gracious. A third admits that he, 
who was Varuna's friend, has offended against him, but asks 
that they who are guilty may not reap the fruits of their sin; 
concluding with this amicable hint: "Do thou, a wise god, 
grant protection to him who praises thee" (O. S. T., vol. v. pp. 
66, 67). "The attributes and functions ascribed to Varuna," 
observes Dr. Muir, "impart to his character a moral elevation 
and sanctity .far surpassing that attributed to any other Vedic 
deity " (Ibid., vol. v. p. 66). And while even in the earlier por- 
tion of the Eig-Veda — from which the above expressions have 
been collected by Dr. Muir — such qualities are ascribed to 
Varuna, we shall find a still higher conception of his character 
in a later work, the Atharva-Veda. Here is the description of 
the Lord of Heaven from the mouth of the Indian Psalmist :— 

1. " The great lord of these worlds sees as if he were near. If a 
man thinks he is walking by stealth, the gods know it all. 2, If a man 
stands or walks or hides, if he goes to lie down or to get up, what two 
people sitting together whisper; King Varuna knows it, he is there as 
the third. 3. This earth, too, belongs to Varuna, the king, and this 
wide sky with its ends far apart. The two seas (the sky and the ocean) 
are Varuna's loins ; he is also contained in this small drop of water. 
4. He who should flee far beyond the sky, even he would not be rid of 



INCIPIENT SENSE OF THE DIVINE UNITY. 437 

Varuna, the king. His spies proceed from heaven towards this world ; 
with thousand eyes they overlook this earth. 5. King Varuna sees all 
this that is between heaven and earth, and what is beyond. He has 
counted the twinklings of the eyes of men. As a player throws the dice 
he settles all things. 6. May all thy fatal nooses, which stand spread out 
seven by seven and threefold, catch the man who tells a lie ; may they 
pass by him who tells the truth" (A. S. L. — Atharva-Veda, iv. 16). 

A consciousness of the unity of Deity, under whatever form 
he may be worshiped, adumbrated here and there in earlier 
hymns, becomes very prominent in the later portions of the 
Veda. From the most ancient times, possibly, occasional sages 
may have attained the conception so familiar to the Hindu 
thinkers of a later age, that a single mysterious essence of 
divinity pervaded the universe. And in the tenth book of the 
Eig-Veda, which is generally admitted to belong to a more 
recent age than the other nine books, as also in the Atharva- 
Veda, this essence is celebrated under various names ; as Puru- 
sha, as Brahma, as Prajapati (Lord), or Skambha (Support). The 
hymns in which this consciousness appears are extremely mys- 
tical, but a notice of the Veda, however slight, would be very 
imperfect without a due recognition of their presence. They 
form the speculative element partly in the midst of, partly suc- 
ceeding to, the simple, practical, naked presentation of the com- 
mon-place daily wants and physical desires of the early Eishis. 
Take the following texts from the first book of the Eig-Veda. 
They give utterance to an incipient sentiment of divine unity. 
The first celebrates a goddess Adili: **Aditi is the sky, Aditi is 
the air, Aditi is the mother and father and son. Adita is all the 
gods and the five classes of men. Aditi is whatever has been 
born. Aditi is whatever shall be born" (O. S. T., vol. v. p. 354.— 
Eig-Veda, i. 89. 10). More remarkable than this — for we may 
suspect here a sectarian desire tov glorify a favorite goddess — 
is this assertion: "They call him Indra, Mitra, Varuna, Agni; 
and he is the celestial (well-winged) Garutmat. Sages name 
variously that which is but one: they call it Agni, Yama, Mat- 
arisvan" (O. S. T., vol. v. p. 353.— Eig-Veda, i. 164, 46). In 
the tenth book of the Eig-Veda, the presence of the specu- 
lative element in the theology of the Eishis,— their longing 



438 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

to find a uniTersal Being whom they could adore,— is much 
more marked. Thus do they express this sentiment:— *' Wise 
,poets make the beautiful-winged, though he is one, manifold by 
words " (Ctiips. vol. i. p. 29 — Kig-Yeda, x. 114. 5). Or more elab- 
orately thus:— 

1. "In the beginning there arose the golden Child — He was the one 
born lord of all that is. He established the earth and this sky; — Who 
is the God to whom we shall offer our sacrifice ? 2. He who gives life, 
He who gives strength; whose command all the bright gods revere; 
whose shadow is immortality, whose shadow is death ;— Who is the God 
to whom we shall offer our sacrifice ? 3. He who through his power is 
the one King of the breathing and awakening world ; He who governs all 
man and beast ; Who is the God to whom we shall offer our sacrifice ? 

4. He whose greatness these snowy mountains, whose greatness the sea 
proclaims, with the distant river — He whose these regions are, as it were 
his two arms;— Who is the God to whom we shall offer our sacrifice ? 

5. He through whom the sky is bright and the earth firm — He through 
whom the heaven was established, — nay, the highest heaven; — He who 
measured out the light in the air; — Who is the God to whom we shall 
offer our sacrifice ? 6. He to whom heaven and earth, standing firm by 
His will, took up, trembling inwardly — He over whom the rising sun 
shines forth; — Who is the God to whom we shall offer our sacrifice? 
7. Wherever the mighty water-clouds went, where they placed the seed 
and lit the fire, thence arose He who is the sole life of the bright gods; 
— Who is the God to whom we shall offer our sacrifice ? 8. He who by 
his might looked even over the water-clouds, the clouds which gave 
strength and lit the sacrifice; He who alone is God above all gods; — Who 
is the God to whom we shall offer our sacrifice? 9. May He not destroy 
us — He the creator of the earth; or He, the righteous, who created the 
heaven; He also created the bright and mighty waters; — Who is the 
God to whom we shall offer our sacrifice ? " (Chips, vol. i. p. 29, or A. 
a L., p. 569.— Eig-Yeda, x. 121). 

The same book contains a very important hymn, entitled the 
Purusha Stikta. In it we find ourselves transported from the 
transparent elemental worship of the ancient Aryas into th© 
misty region of Brahmanical subtleties. Purusha appears to be 
conceived as the universal essence of the world, all existences 



THE PURUSHA StJKTA. 439 

being but one-quarter of him. The theory of sacrifice occupies, 
as in the later Indian literature generally, a prominent position. 
Purusha's sacrifice involved the momentous consequences of the 
creation of the several >redas and of living creatures. The 
four castes sprang from different parts of his person, the parts 
corresponding to their relative dignity. The purpose of this 
portion is obvious, namely, to give greater sanctity to the sys- 
tem of caste, a system to which the earlier hymn makes no 
allusion, and which wo may suppose to have grown up subse- 
quently to the era of their composition. Tedious as it is, the 
Purusha Sukta is too weighty to be quite passed over. 

1. " Purusha has a thousand heads, a thousand eyes, a thousand feet. 
On every side enveloping the earth, he overpassed (it) by a space of ten 
fingers. 2. Purusha himself is this whole (universe), whatever has been 
and whatever shall be. He is also the lord of immortality, since (or 
when) by food he expands. 3. Such is his greatness, and Purusha is 
superior to this. All existences are a quarter of him; and three-fourths 
of him are that which is immortal in the sky. 4. With three-quarters 
Purusha mounted upwards. A quarter of him was again produced 
here. He was then diffused everywhere over things which eat and 
things which do not eat. 5. From him was born VirSj, and from 
Viraj, Purusha. When born, he extended beyond the earth, both be- 
hind and before. 6. When the gods performed a sacrifice with Purusha 
as the oblation, the spring was its butter, the summer its fuel, and the 
autumn its (accompanying) offering. 7. This victim, Purusha, born in 
the beginning, they immolated on the sacrificial grass. With him the 
gods, the Sadhyas, and the Rishis sacrificed. 8. From that universal 
sacrifice sprang the rich and saman verses, the metnes and the yajush. 
10. From it sprang horses, and all animals with two rows of teeth; kine 
sprang from it; from it goats and sheep. 11. When (the gods) divided 
Purusha, into how many parts did they cut him up ? what was his 
mouth ? what arms (had he)? what (two objects) are said (to have been) 
his thighs and feet? 12. The Brahman was his mouth; the Eajanya 
was made his arms; the being (called) the Vaisya, he was his thighs; the 
Sudra sprang from his feet. 13. The moon sprang from his soul 
(manas), the sun from his eye, Indra and Agni from his mouth, and 
Vayu from his breath. 14. From his navel arose the air, from his head 
the sky, from his feet the earth, from his ear the (four) quarters ; in this 



440 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

manner (tlie gods) formed the worlds. 15. When the gods, performing 
sacrifice, bound Purusha as a victim, there were seven sticks (stuck up) 
for it (around the fire), and thrice seven pieces of fuel were made. 16. 
With sacrifice the gods performed the sacrifice: These were the earliest 
rites. These great powers have sought the sky, where are the former 
Sadhyas, gods" (O. S. T., vol. i. p. 9.— Rig-Veda, x. 90). 

The wide interval which separates theological theories of 
this kind from the primitive hymns to the old polytheistic 
gods, is also marked by a tendency to personify abstract intel- 
lectual conceptions, and to confer exalted attributes upon them. 
Skambha, or Support, mentioned above ; Kala, Time, celebrated 
in the Atharva-Veda ; Speech, endowed with personal powers in 
the tenth book of the Rig- Veda; Wisdom, to whom prayer is 
offered in the Atharva-Veda, are instances of this generalizing 
tendency. As a specimen, the hymn to Wisdom may be taken, 
and readers may console themselves Avith the reflection that it 
is our last quotation from the Mantra part of the Veda: — 

1. "Come to us, wisdom, the first, with cows and horses; (come) 
thou with the rays of the sun ; thou art to us an object of worship. 2. 
To (obtain) the succor of the gods, I invoke wisdom the first, full of 
prayer, inspired by prayer, praised by rishis, imbibed by Brahmach- 
arins. 3. We introduce within me that wisdom which Ribhus know, 
that wisdom which divine beings (asurah) know, that excellent wisdom 
which rishis know. 4. Make me, O Agni, wise to-day with that wisdom 
which the wise rishis — the makers of things existing — know. 5. We 
introduce wisdom in the evening, wisdom in the morning, wisdom at 
noon, wisdom with the rays of the sun, and with speech " (O. S. T., 
vol, i. p. 255 note. — Atharva-Veda, vi. 108). 

Interesting as the Mantra of the Vedas is from the fact of 
its being the oldest Bible of the Aryan race, it is impossible 
for modern readers to feel much enthusiasm for its contents. 
The patient labor of these scholars who have engaged in trans- 
lations of some parts of it for the benefit of European readers 
is highly commendable, but it is probable that few who have 
read any considerable number of these hymns will be desirous 
of a further acquaintance with them, unless for the purpose of 
some special researches. Indeed, it may be said that the 



FIRST CKUDE CONCEPTIONS OF DEITY. 441 

devoted industry of Benfey, Muir, Max MuUe^, and others, has 
placed more than a sufficient number of them within reach of 
the general public to enable us all to judge of their liicrary 
value and their religious teaching. With regard to the former, it 
would be difficult to concede to them anything but a very 
modest place. In beauty of style, expression, or ideas, they 
appear to me to be almost totally deficient. Assuming, as we 
are entitled to do, that all the best specimens have been already 
culled by scholars eager to find something attractive in the 
Veda, it must be confessed that the general run of the hymns 
is singularly monotonous, and their language by no means 
conspicuous for poetical coloring. No doubt, poetry always loses 
in translation ; but Isaiah and Homer are still beautiful in a 
German or English dress; the Stiktas of the Kig-Yeda are not. 
A few exceptions no doubt occur, as in the stanzas to Ushas, or 
Dawn, quoted above, but the ordinary level is not a high one. 

Although, however, the literary merit of the Veda cannot be 
ranked high, its value to the religious history of humanity at 
large, and of our race in particular, can hardly be overrated. 
To the comparative mythologist, above all, it possesses illimit- 
able interest, from the new light it sheds upon the origin and 
significance of many of those world-wide tales which, in their 
metamorphosed Hellenic shape, could not be effectually brought 
under the process of dissection by which their primitive ele- 
ments have now been laid bare. Mythology is beyond the 
province of this work, and therefore I purposely refrain from 
entering upon any explanation of the physical meaning of the 
old Aryan gods, or of the stories in which they figure.* All 
that I have to do with here is the grade attained in the develop- 
ment of religious feeling among those who worshiped them. 
And this, it is plain, was at first a very elementary one. The 
more striking phenomena of nature — the sun, the moon, the 
sky, the storms, the dawn, the fire — at first attracted their 
attention, and absorbed their adoration. To these personal 
beings, as they seemed to the awe-struck Eishis, petitions of 
the rudest type were confidently addressed. "Very little allusion, 
if any, was made to the necessities of the moral nature; the 

• All this will be found admirably treated in Mr. Cox's "Mythology of 
the Aryan Nations." 



442 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

craving for spiritual knowledge was scarcely felt; but great 
stress was laid on temporal prosperity. Boons of the most 
material kind were looked for at the hands of the gods. Plenty 
of offspring, plenty of physical strength, plenty of property, 
especially in cattle, and victory over enemies; such are the re- 
quests most commonly poured into the ears of Indra, or Agni, 
or the Maruts. These gods are regarded as the sympathizing 
friends of men, and if they should fail to do what may reason- 
ably be expected of a god, are almost upbraided for their negli- 
gence. The conception of their power is a high one, though 
that of their moral nature is still rudimentary. Their greatness 
and their glory, their victories, their splendor, are described in 
vigorous and high-sounding phrases. The changes are rung upon 
their peculiar attributes or their famous exploits. Each god in 
his turn is a great god ; but all are separate individuals i there 
appears in the crude Aryan mind to be as yet no dawning of 
the perplexing questions on the unity of the Divine which 
troubled its later development. For as it progresses, the Hindu 
religion gradually changes. External calm, succeeding the wars 
of the first settlers, promotes internal activity. The great prob- 
lem of the Universe is no longer solved, five or six centuries 
after the older Eishis had passed away, in the simple fashion 
which satisfied their curiosity. Multiplicity is now resolved into 
unity; mystical abstractions take the place of the elementary 
powers of nature. Speech is a goddess; the Vedas themselves 
— as in the Purusha hymn — acquire a quasi-divinity ; the Brah- 
macharin, or student of theology, is endowed with supernatural 
attributes, due to the sacred character of his pursuits. Sacri- 
fice, fixed and regulated down to the smallest minutiae, has a 
peculiar efficacy, and becomes something of far deeper meaning 
than a merely acceptable present to the gods. Every posture, 
every word, every tone acquires importance. There are charms, 
there are curses, there are incantations for good and evil pur- 
poses, for the acquisition of wealth or the destruction of an 
enemy. It is by its collection of such magical formulae that 
the Atharva-Veda is distinguished from its three predecessors. 
It forms the last stone laid upon the edifice of the genuine 
Veda, an edifice built up by the labor of many centuries, and 
including the whole of that original revelation to which the 



THE BRAHMANA.S, 443 

centuries that succeeded it bowed down in reverence and in 
faith. 

Subdivision 2.—T1ie Brdhmanas, 

Attached to this edifice as an outgrowth rather than an inte- 
gral part, the treatises known as Brahmanas took their place 
as appendages of the Sanhita. Although they are reckoned by 
the Hindus as belonging to the Sruti, although their nominal 
rank is thus not inferior to that of the true Veda, yet it must 
have taken them many generations to acquire a position of 
honor to which nothing but tradition could possibly entitle 
them. Por any gleams of poetical inspiration, of imaginative 
religious feeling, of naturalness or simple earnestnesss that had 
shone athwart the minds of devout authors in preceding ages, 
had apparently passed away when the Brahmanas were com- 
posed. They are the elaborate disquisitions of scholars, not the 
outpourings of men of feeling. Keligion was cut and dried 
when they were written ; every part of it has become a matter 
of definition, of theory, of classification. If in the Vedic hymns 
we are placed before a stage where religious faith is a living 
body, whose movements, perhaps uncouth, are still energetic 
and genuine, the Brahmanas,, on the other hand, take us into 
the dissecting-room, where the constituent elements of its 
corpse are exposed to our observation. Not indeed that a true 
or deep faith had ceased in the Brahmana period; such an 
assertion would no doubt be extravagant; but the Brahmanas 
themselves are the products of minds more given to analysis 
than to sentiment, and of an age in which the predominant 
tendency, at least among cultivated Brahmans, was not so much 
to feel religion as to think about it. It is so everywhere. The 
Hebrew Bible, once fixed and completed, gives rise to the 
Mishnah. The Apostles and Fathers of the Christian Church are 
followed by a race of schoolmen. The simple Sutras of Budd- 
hism, replete with plain, world-wide lessons of moral truth, 
give place to the abstruse developments of incomprehensible 
theology. Thus the Brahmanas mark the epoch when the Yeda 
had finally ceased to grow, and its every word and letter had 
become the object of an unquestioning adoration as the imme- 
diate emanation of God. 



444 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

But among a people so subtle and so inquisitive in all mat- 
ters of religious belief as the Hindus, opinion could not rest 
unmoved upon the original foundation. Their minds did not, 
like those of the Jews, stop short for ever in their intellectual 
progression, chained to the unshakeable rock of a god-given 
Eevelation. Ever active, ever attracted to the enigmas of life, 
the Brahmans pushed their speculations into new regions of 
thought, pondered upon new problems, and invented new solu- 
tions. Not that we are to expect lo find in the literatuie of 
this period any valuable discoveries or any very striking phi- 
losophy. The true philosophical systems came later. Bat still 
we do find a restless spirit of inquiry, ever prompting fresh 
efforts to conceive the significance of the gods or to penetrate 
the mysteries of nature, though the questions discussed are 
often trifling, and the results arrived at frivolous. 

Every Veda has, as already stated, its own Brahm^na or 
Brahmanas. Thus, two of these treatises appertain to the Eig- 
Veda; three to the Sama-Yeda, one to the Black and one to 
the White Yajur-Veda, and one to the Atharva-Yeda (O. S. T., 
vol. i. p. 5). Appended to the Brahmanas, and forming, accord- 
ing to Dr. Muir, their "mosfrecent portions," are the Aranya- 
kas and Upanishads, a kind of supplementary works devoted to 
the elucidation of the highest points of theology. The Brah- 
manas present an example of Kitualism in all its glory. They 
fix the exact nature of every part of every ceremony ; describe 
minutely the mode in which each sacrifice is to be offered; 
mention the Mantras to be recited on each occasion; declare 
the benefits to be expected from the several rites, and explain 
the reasons — drawn from the history of the gods— why they 
are all to be performed in this particular way and order, and 
in no other. They are in fact liturgies, accompanied by exposi- 
tion. Hence they are totally unfit for quotation in a general 
work, for they would be incomprehensible without an accom- 
panying essay on the Yedic sacrifices, entering into details 
which would interest none but professional students of the 
subject. 

Thus, the Aitareya Brahmana occupies itself entirely with 
the duties of the Hotri priests; for the recitation of the Big- 
Yeda, to which this Brahmana belonged, was their province. 



RITUALISM IN ALL ITS GLORY. 445 

Occasionally, however, the Brahmanas, Upanishads, and Aran- 
yakas are enlivened by the introduction of apologues, intended 
to illustrate the point of theological dogma to which the author 
is addressing himself. Some of these apologues are curious, 
though the style in which they are related is generally so pro- 
lix as to preclude extraction. A notion of them may be gathered 
from condensed statements. Thus, in the Brihad Aranyaka 
Upanishad a story is told of a dispute amoDg the vital organs 
as to which of them was "best founded," i. e., most essential 
to life. To obtain the decision of this controversy they repaired 
to Brahma, who said, " He amongst you is best founded by 
whose departure the body is found to suffer most." Hereupon 
Speech departed, and returning after a year's absence, inquired 
how the others had lived without it. "They said, 'As dumb 
people who do not speak by speech, breathing by the vital breath, 
seeing by the eye, hearing by the ear, thinking by the mind, 
and begetting children, so have we lived.' " The eye, the ear, 
the mind, the organ of generation, each departed for a year, 
and, mutatis mutandis, with similar results ; blindness, deafness, 
idiocy, impotence, were all compatible with life. Lastly, " the 
vital breath being about to depart, as a great, noble horse from 
the Sindhu country raises its hoofs, so it shook those vital 
organs from their places. They said, 'Do not depart, O Ven- 
erable. We cannot live without thee.' ' If I am such, then offer 
saciilice to me." (They answered) — *Be it so.'" All the other 
organs hereupon admitted that their own existence depended on 
that of the vital breath (B. A. U., ch. vi. p. 259). 

Several narratives in various Brahmanas point to the fact 
that theological knowledge was not in these early days confined 
to the single caste by which it was afterwards monopolized, for 
they speak of well-read kings by whom Brahmans were in- 
structed. In the Chhandogya Upanishad, for example, five mem- 
bers of the Brahmanical caste engaged in a debate upon the 
question " Which is our soul, and which is Brahma ? " Unable 
to satisfy themselves, they repaired, accompanied by another 
theologian who had been unable to answer them, to a monarch 
named Asvapati, and declining his proffered gifts, requested him 
to impart to them the knowledge he possessed of the Universal 
Soul. He accordingly asked each of them in turn which soul 



446 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

he adored. The first replied that he adored the heaven; the 
second, the sun ; the third, the winds ; the fourth, the sky ; the 
fifth, water; the sixth, the earth. To each of them in turn the 
king admitted that it was indeed a partial manifestation of the 
Universal Soul which he worshiped, and that its adoration 
would confer some advantages. But, he finally added, "You 
consume food, knowing the Universal Soul to be many; but he 
who adoreth that Universal Soul which pervadeth the heaven 
and the earth, and is the principal object indicated by (the pro- 
noun) /, consumeth food everywhere and in all regions, in every 
form and in every faculty." Of that all-pervading Soul the sev-. 
eral phenomena of the visible Universe worshiped by the Brah- 
mans in their ignorance are but parts (Chhand. Up., ch. v. sec- 
tion 11-18, p. 92-97). Other Brahmanas tell similar stories of the 
occasional preeminence of the Kshattriya caste in the rivalry of 
learning. Thus, the Satapatha Brahmana, the Brihad Aranyaka 
Upanishad, and the Kaushitaki Brahmana Upanishad, all refer 
to a certain king Ajatasatru, who proved himself superior in 
theological disputation to a Brahman named Balaki, *' renowned 
as a man well-read in the Veda." Let us take the version of 
the last-named Upanishad. Balaki proposed to "declare divine 
knowledge " to the king, who offered to give him a thousand 
cows for his tuition. But after he had propounded his views on 
the Deity, and had been put to shame by the king's answers, 
the latter said, "Thou hast vainly proposed to me; let me 
teach thee divine knowledge. He, son of Balaka, who is the 
maker of these souls, whose w^ork that is,— he is the object of 
knowledge." Convinced of his ignoranx^e, Balaki proposed to 
become the king's pupil. " The king replied, * I regard it as an 
inversion of the proper rule that a Kshattriya should initiate a 
Brahman. But come, I will instruct thee' " (O. S. T., vol. i. p. 
431). 

Both these stories Illustrate the striving towards conceptions 
of the unity of the divine essence which is characteristic of this 
speculative age. The next, from the Satapatha Brahmana, has 
reference to another important point,— the future of the soul. 
A young Brahman, called Svetaketu, came to a monarch who 
inquired whether he had received a suitable education from his 
father. The youth replied that he had. Hereupon the king 



THE MERIT OF PATIENCE. 447 

proceeded to put him through an examination, in which he com- 
pletely broke down. One of the question was this:— *' Dost thou 
know the means of attaining the path which leads to the gods, 
or that which leads to the Pitris (Ancestors (patres); by what 
act the one or the other is gained ?" In other words did he 
know the way to heaven ? The student did not. Vexed at his 
failure, the young man hastened to his father, reproached him 
with having declared that he was instructed, and complained 
that the Rajanya had asked him five questions, of which he 
knew not even one. Gautama inquired what they were, and on 
hearing them, assured his son that he had taught him all he 
himself knew. "But come, let us proceed thither, and become 
his pupils." Eeceiving his guest with due respect, the king 
offered Gautama a boon. Gautama begged for an explanation of 
the five questions. "That," said the king, "is one of the divine 
boons; ask one of those that are human." But Gautama pro- 
tested that he had wealth enough of all kinds, and added, " Be 
not illiberal towards us in respect to that which is immense, 
infinite, boundless." The king accordingly accepted them as his 
pupils, saying, "Do not attach any blame to me, as your ances- 
tors (did not). This knowledge has never heretofore dwelt in 
any Brahman ; but I shall declare it to thee. For who should 
refuse thee when thou so speakest?" (O. S. T., vol. i. p. 43-4.) 

UnhistoricLil as they probably are in their details, these tra- 
ditions are curious both as illustrating the predominant inclina- 
tion to speculative inquiries, and the fact that in those inquiries 
the priestly caste was sometimes outshone by their more secu- 
lar rivals. The following quotation bears upon another doctrine, 
the transcendent merit of patience under trials, even of the 
severest kind. Manu, the typical ancestor of mankind, is rep- 
resented as resigning his most precious possessions to enable 
impious priests to perform a sacrifice: — 

"Manu had a bull. Into it .an Asura-slaying, enemy-slaying voice 
had entered. In consequence of this (bull's) snorting and bellowing, 
Asuras and Eakshasas (these are species of demons) were continually 
destroyed. Then the Asuras said, 'This bull, alas! does us mischief; 
how shall we overcome him? ' Now there were two priests of the 
Asuras called KilStka and Akuli. They said, * Manu is a devout be- 



448 HOLY BOOKS. OE BIBLES. 

liever: let us make trial of him.' They went and said to him, ' Let us 
sacrifice for thee.' 'With what victim?' he asked. ' With this bull,' 
they replied. ' Be it so,' he answered. When it had been slaughtered, 
the voice departed out of it, and entered into Manu's wife MSnavt 
Wherever they hear her speaking, the Asuias and Rtkshasas continue 
to be destroyed in consequence of her voice. The Asuras said, ' She 
does us yet more mischief; for the human voice speaks more.' Kildta 
and Akuli said, ' Manu is a devout believer: let us make trial of him.' 
They came and said to him, 'Manu, let us sacrifice for thee.' 'With 
what victim?' he asked. 'With this (thy) wife,' they replied. 'Be it 
so,' he answered" O. S. T., vol. i. p. 188). 

Sometimes, though not often, the Brahmanas contain refer- 
ences to moral conduct. A very theological definition of Duty 
is given in the Chhandogya Upanishad, where it is stated, 
" Threefold is the division of Duty. Sacrifice, study, and char- 
ity constitute the first; penance is the second; and residence 
by a Brahmacharin (a student of theology) exclusively in the 
house of a tutor is the third. All those [who attend to these 
duties] attain virtuous regions; the believer in Brahma alone 
attains to immortality" (A. B., vii, 2. 10). In another Brah- 
mana it is asserted that "the marriage of Faith and Trutli is a 
most happy one. For by Faith and Truth joined they conquer 
the celestial world" (Chhaud. Up., ch. ii. sec. 23). And the 
the story of Sunahsepa, which contains an emphatic repudia- 
tion of human sacrifice, has a moral bearing. As a rule, how- 
ever, the Brahmanas do not concern themselves with ethical 
questions. The rules of sacrifice, and the doctrines of a com- 
plicated theology, are their main business; and the topics they 
are thus led to debate in elaborate detail must frequently im- 
press the European reader as not only uninteresting, but un- 
meaning. 

Section IV.— The Teipitaka.* 

* No complete translation of the Tripitaka exists, or is ever likely to exist 
in any European language. Its vast extent, and the comparative worth- 
lessness of many of its parts, would preclude its publication as a whole. 
But complete treatises, or portions of treatises, have been translated by 
Burnouf, in his"Hibtoire du Bu'ddhisme Indian," and " Lotus de la Bonne 
Loi;" byBeal, in his "Chinese Buddhist Scriptures;" by Schmidt, in "Der 
Wei'se und der Thor ;" by Hardy, in his " Manual of Buddhism." and by Ala- 



THE BUDDHIST CANON. 449 

When the master-mind who, by oral and personal instruc- 
tion, has led his disciples to the knowledge of new and invalu- 
able truths passes away — when the lips that taught them are 
closed forever, and the intellect that solved the problems of 
human life is at rest, when the soul that met the spiritual 
cravings of their souls is no more near them — a necessity at 
once arises for the collection of the sayings, the apologues, or 
the parables which can now be heard no more, and which only 
live in the memories of those who heard them. The precious 
possession must not be lost. The light must not be suffered to 
die out. Either the words of the Departed One must be trans- 
mitted orally from disciple to disciple, from generation to gen- 
eration (as happens in countries where writing is uncommon or 
unknown), or they must be rendered imperishable by being 
once for all recorded in books. 

Such was the course of events upon the death of Gautama 
Buddha. Tradition tells us that immediately after that great 
Teacher had entered into Nirvana, his disciples assembled in 
council to collect his 'koyia, and to fix the Canons of the Faith. 
This Canon consisted of three portions, and is therefore called 
the Tripitaka, or Three Baskets. Of these baskets, his dis- 
ciple Upali was appointed to recall to memory, and edit, the 
one termed Vinaija, or the Buddha's instructions on discipline; 
Ananda (the intimate friend of Gautama), the Sutras, or prac- 
tical teachings; and Kasyapa, the Abhiddharma, or metaphys- 
ical lectures. Into these three classes the Buddhist Canon 
remains still divided. But the text, as thus established, did not 
escape the necessity of further revision. One hundred and ten 
years after Sakyamuni's decease, certain monks brought consid- 
erable scandal on the Church by disregarding his precepts. To 
meet the difficulty, a council was held under the Buddhist king 
Asoka, the orthodox faith was determined, and a new edition of 
the Canonical Works compiled by seven hundred "accomplished 
priests." Divisions and heiresies, however, could not be pre- 

baster. in his " Modern Buddhist." An exact analysis of the contents of the 
hundred volumes of the great collection called the Kah-gyur is supplied by 
Csoma Korosi in the 20th vol. of the "Asiatic Researches." The leading features 
of the books, and parts of books thus translated, are so well marked and uni- 
form, that nothing further is needed to enable us to estimate the general 
character of each division of the whole Tripitaka. 



450 HOLY BOOKS. OB BIBLES. 

vented. In Kanishka's reign, four hundred years after Buddha, 
the Church was split up into eighteen sects, and a third coun- 
cil had to issue a third Kevision of the Sacred Texts.* 

All this is not to be taken as literally true. Especially is it 
impossible to accept the story that a Text of the Buddha's pre- 
cepts and lectures was formed immediately after his death. It 
is probable that not even the earliest parts of the Tripitaka were 
committed to writing till long after that event, and it is quite 
certain that its later elements could not have been added till 
some centuries after it. Nevertheless, they may be, and indeed 
it is almost beyond doubt that there are, some works in this 
Canon which were already current as the Word of Buddha in 
the time of Asoka, who reigned in the third century before 
Christ. In an inscription quoted by Burnouf, and indisputably 
emanating from that monarch, it is .stated that the law embraces 
the following topics: — "The limits marked by the Vinaya, the 
supernatural faculties of the Ariyas, the dangers of the future, 
the stanzas of the hermit, the Sutra of the hermit, the specu- 
lation of Upatisa (Sariputtra) only, the instruction of Laghula 
(Kahula), rejecting false doctrines. This," adds the proclama- 
tion, **is what has been said by the blessed Buddha" (Lotus, p. 
725). In this enumeration we recognize, as Burnouf has observed, 
the classes Vinaya and Sutra, which stiil form two out of the 
three baskets, and we find also that certain texts were accepted 
by the Church as containing the genuine teaching of the Buddha. 
We must suppose, therefore, that at the epoch of the Council 
held under Asoka in b. c. 246, there were already many unques- 
tioned works in circulation. Nor is there any reason to doubt 
that some of these have descended to our times. Burnouf 
divides the Sutras (in the more general sense of instructions or 
sermons) into two kinds : simple, and developed Sutras, of which 
the simple ones bear marks of antiquity and of fairly represent- 
ing primitive Buddhism, while the developed Sutras contain the 
fanciful speculations of a later age. 

Two most fortunate discoveries, the one made by Mr. Hodg- 
son in Nepaul, the other by Csoma Korosi in Thibet, have 
placed the vast collection forming the Canon of Buddhism 

* Southern Buddhists fix the dates of these General Counsels somewhat 
differently. 



THE VINA.YA-PITAKA. 451 

•within the reach of European scholars. Brian Houghton Hodg- 
son was the British Kesident in Nepaul in the early part of the 
present century, and he there succeeded in obtaining a large 
number of volumes in Sanskrit which he presented to the 
Asiatic Societies of London and Paris. To the latter he pre- 
sented first twenty-four works, and subsequently sixty-four 
MSS,, being copies of works he had sent to the Asiatic Society 
in London. These books happily fell into the hands of one of 
the greatest of Sanskrit scholars, Eugene Burnouf, who, in his 
"History of Indian Buddhism," translated a sufQcient number 
of them to serve as specimens. About the same time a zealous 
Hungarian, Csoma KSrDsi, undertook an adventurous journey 
into the heart of Asia, with a view of discovering the original 
stock of the Hungarian race. Eailing in this object, he achieved 
another of greater value, that of unearthing the whole of the 
sacred books known in Thibet under the name of the Kahgyur. 
or Kan-gijur (properly hkah-hgyur), which is the Thibetan trans- 
lation, in one hundred volumes, of the very works of which 
Hodgson in Nepaul had discovered the Sanskrit originals. Such 
is the nature of our guarantees for the authenticity of the text. 

Subdivision 1. — TJie Vlnaija-Fitaka. 

Let us proceed to consider in detail the division which stands 
first in the Buddhist classification, the Yinaya-Pitaka, or basket- 
ful of works on Discipline. These, according to Burnouf, are 
of very different ages, some being, from the details they furnish 
with reference to Sakj-amuni, his institutions and his surround- 
ings, of very anciont date, and others, which relate events that 
did not occur till two hundred years or more after his death, 
belonging to a more recent period. One of the most instructive 
of tho legends which form the staple of the works on Discip- 
line, is that of Purna. Only a brief extract of it can be at- 
tempted here. 

Bhagavat (that is, the Lord, or Buddha) was at Sravasti, in 
the garden of Anathapindika. (Anathapindika was a house- 
holder who had embraced the religion of the Buddha, and in 
whose garden he was accustomed to preach.) There resided at 
this time in the town of Surparaka a very wealthy house- 



452 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

holder, named Bhava. This Bhava had three sons by his legit- 
imate wife, who were christened respectively Bhavila, Bhava- 
trata, and Bhavanandin. Alter some years he fell into an illness 
which led to his using language of extraordinary yiolence. 
His wife with her three sons deserted him in consequence, but 
a young female slave, reflecting that he had immense wealth, 
and that it would not be suitable for her to desert him, 
remained in the house and nursed him throughout his malady. 
Seeing that he owed her hts life, Bhava on his recovery told her 
that he would give her a reward. The young woman begged 
that if satisfied she might be admitted to her master's bed. 
Bhava endeavored to get off, promising a handsome sum of 
money and her liberty instead, but the girl was determined, and 
obtained her wish. The result was that "after eight or nine 
months" she gave birth to a beautiful boy, to whom thp name 
of Purna (the Accomplished) was given. The infant Purna was 
confided to eight aurses, and subsequently received a first-rate 
education. In due time, the three elder sons were married by 
their father's desire, but the father, seeing them absorbed in 
mere uxoriousness, reproved their indolence, telling them that 
he had not been married until he had amassed a lac (100,000) of 
Suvarna (representing about twenty-eight shillings). Struck by 
this reproof, the three sons went to sea on a mercantile expedi- 
tion, and returned after having each made a lac of Suvarnas. 
But Purna, who had remained at home to manage the shop, 
w^as found to have gained an equal sum in the same time. 
Bhava, perceiving Purna's talents, impressed on his sons the 
importance of union, and the duty of disregarding what was 
said by their wives, women being the destroyers of family 
peace. He illustrated his remarks by a striking expedient. 
Having desired his sons to bring some wood, and to kindle it, 
he then ordered them all to withdraw the brands. This being 
done, the fire went out, and the moral was at once understood 
by the four young men. United the fuel burns; and thus the 
union of brothers makes their strength. Bhavila in particular 
was warned by his father never to abandon Purna. In course 
of time Bhava died, and the three legitiniate sons undertook 
another voyage. During their absence, the wives of the two 
younger sons fancied themselves ill-treated by Purna, who, in 



THE LEGEND OF PURNA. 453 

the midst of his business in the shop, did not supply their 
maids fast enough with all they sent for. On the return of their 
husbands these two complained to them that were treated as 
happens to those in whose family the son of a slave exercises 
the command. The two brothers merely reflected that women 
sowed divisions in families. Unhappily, however, some trifling 
incidents, in which Bhavila's child appeared to have been 
treated by Purna with undue partiality, gave the sister-in-law a 
more plausible pretext for their complaints. Such was the 
effect of their jealousy, that the younger brothers determined to 
demand a division of the property, in which Purna (as a slave) 
was to form one of the lots. Bhavila, as eldest brother, had 
first choice, and remembering his father's advice, chose Purna. 
One of the other brotheis took the house and land, and ejected 
Bhavila's wife; the other took the shop and the property in 
foreign parts, and ejected Purna. Bhavila, his wife, and Purna, 
retired penniless to the house of a relative. The wife in distress 
sent out Ptirna with nothing but a brass coin, which had been 
attached to her dress, to buy provisions. Purna met a man who 
had picked up some stranded sandal-wood on the sea-shore, and 
buying it of him (on credit) for five hundred Karshapanas, sold 
a portion of it again for one thousand. With this sum he first 
paid the man who had sold the wood, and then obtained pro- 
visions for the household. He had still in his possession some 
pieces of the sandal-wood, which was of a very valuable species 
called Gosirsha, Shortly after this, the king fell ill, and his 
doctors having prescribed an ungent of this very wood, it was 
found that no one but Purna had any in his possession. Purna 
sold a piece of it to the Government at one thousand Karsha- 
panas, and the king recovered. Hereupon he reflected that he 
was but a poor sort of king who had no Gosirsha sandal-wood 
in his establishment, and sent for Purna. Purna, guessing his 
object, approached him with one piece in his hand, and three 
in his robe. The king, after ascertaining that tlie price of the 
one piece would be a lac of Suvarnas, inquired if there was 
more. Purna then showed him the three other pieces, and the 
king would hc^ve given him four lacs of Suvarnas. The wily 
merchant, however, offered to present him with one piece, and 
when the grateful monarch offered him a boon, requested that 



454 HOLY BOOKS. OE BIBLES. 

he might henceforth be protected against all insults, wjiich was 
at once accorded. 

About this time five hundred merchants arrived at Surparaka 
with a cargo of goods. The Merchants' Company passed a res- 
olution that none of thorn should act independently of the rest 
in buying any of these goods ; in short, that there should be no 
competition. Any one dealing with the merchants alone was 
to pay a fine. Purna, however, at once went to the vessel and 
bought the whole cargo at the price demanded, eighteen lacs 
of Suvarnas, paying the three lacs he had received as security. 
The Merchants' Company, finding themselves anticipated, seized 
Purna and exposed him to the sun to force him to pay the 
fine. No sooner was the king informed of this than he sent 
for the Merchants' Company to learn the cause of their pro- 
ceedings. They told him; but being obliged to confess that 
they had never informed Purna or his brother of the resolution 
passed, they had to release him with shame. Fortune still 
favored him. Soon after this, the king happened to require the 
very articles which Purna had purchased, and desired the 
Merchants' Company to purchase them. Purna hereupon sold 
them at double the price he had paid. His next step was to 
undertake a sea-voyage for commercial purposes, and the first 
having been successful, it was followed by five others, all 
equally so. His seventh was undertaken at the instance of 
some Buddhist merchants from Sravasti, where Gautama was 
teaching. During the voyage he was profoundly impressed 
with their religious demeanor. "These merchants, at night 
and at dawn, read aloud the hymns, the prayers which lead to 
the other shore, the texts which disclose the truth, the verses 
of the Sthaviras, those relating to the several sciences, and 
those of the hermits, as well as the Sutras containing sections 
about temporal interests. Purna, who heard them, said to 
them, 'Gentlemen, what is that fine poetry which you sing?' 
* It is not poetry, O prince of merchants ; it is the very words 
of the Buddha.' Purna, who had never till now heard this 
name of Buddha mentioned, and who felt his hair stand up all 
over his body, inquired with deep respect, * Gentlemen, who is 
he whom you call Buddha?' The merchants replied, 'The 
Sramana Gautama, descended from the Sakya family, who 



THE LEGEND OF PUBNA. 455 

having shaven his hair and beard, having pat on garments of 
yellow hue, left his house with perfect faith to enter upon a 
religious life, and who has reached the supreme condition of 
au all-perfect Buddha; it is he, O prince of merchants, -who is 
called the Buddha.* 'In what place, gentlemen, does he now 
reside?' 'At Sr&vasti, O prince of merchants, in the wood of 
Jetavana, in the garden of Anatha-pindika.'" The result of 
this conversation was that Purna, on his return, announced to 
his brother his intention of becoming a moBk, and advised him 
never to go to sea, and never to live with his two brothers. 
After this he went straight to Anatha-pindika, and was by him 
presented to the Buddha, who received him with the remark 
that the most agreeable present he could have was a man to 
convert. Puona then received the investiture and tonsure by 
miracle, and was instructed in the law (in an abridged version) 
by his master. A beautiful, and very characteristic conversa- 
tion follows the reception of the new doctrine. The Buddha 
inquired of Purna where he would now reside, and the latter 
(who intended to lead an ascetic life) replied that he would re- 
side "in the land of the Sronaparantakas.* *0 Purna,' says 
Gautama, * they are violent, these men of Sronaparanta : they 
are passionate, cruel, angry, furious, and insolent. "When the 
men of Sronaparanta, O Purna, shall address thee to thy face 
in wicked, coarse, and insulting language, when they shall be- 
come enraged against thee and rail at thee, what wilt thou 
think of that?' 'If the men of Sronaparanta, O Lord, address 
me to my face in wicked, coarse, and insulting language, if they 
become enraged against me and rail at me, this is what I shall 
think of that: They are certainly good men, these Sronaparan- 
takas, they are gentle, mild men, they who address me to my 
face, in wicked, coarse and insulting languge, they who become 
enraged against me and rail at me, but who neither strike me 
with the hand nor stone me.'" The rest must be given in an 
abridged form. *'But if they do strike thee with the hand or 
stone thee?" "I shall think them good and gentle for not 
striking me with swords or sticks." "And if they do that?" 
"I shall think them good and gentle for not depriving me 

• Apparently a people living beyond the frontiers (of the civilised 
world). See H. B. I., p. 252. n. 



456 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

entirely of life." *'And if they do that?" (what follows is lit- 
eral.) " If the men of Sronaparanta, O Lord, deprive me 
entirely of life, this is what I shall think: There are hearers 
of Bhagvat [the Lord] who by reason of this body full of 
ordure, are tormented, covered with confusion, despised, struck 
with swords, who take poison, who die of hanging, who are 
thrown down precipices. They are certainly good people, these 
Sronaparantakas, they are gentle people, they who deliver me 
with so little pain from this body full of ordure." "Good, good, 
Ptirna; thou canst, with the perfection of patience with which 
thou art endowed, yes, thou canst live, thou canst take up thy 
abode in the land of the Sronaparantakas. Go, Purna; deliv- 
ered thyself, deliver; arrived thyself at the other shore, cause 
others to arrive there; consoled thyself, console; having come 
thyself to complete Nirvana, cause others to arrive there." 

Hereupon Ptirna took his way to Sronaparanta, where he 
converted a huntsman who had intended to kill him, and 
obtained five hundred novices composed of both sexes. 

After a time, Bhavila, his brother, was requested by Bhava- 
trata and Bhavanandin to enter into partnership with them ; and 
his repugnance to the proposal was overcome by the reproaches 
of his younger brothers, who said that he would never have 
dared to go to sea as Ptirna had done. Stung by this taunt, he 
engaged witli them in a sea-voyage. The vessel was attacked 
by a furious storm, raised by a demon in consequence of the 
merchants having cut some sandal-wood which was under this 
demon's protection. Bhavila stood dumbfounded; and when 
the passengers inquired the reason, informed them that he was 
thinking of his brother's advice never to go to sea. It turned 
out that the merchants on board knew of Ptirna's great sanctity, 
and they addressed their prayers to him. He came through the 
air, after the manner of Buddhist ascetics, appeared sitting 
cross-legged over the vessel, and allayed the tempest. The 
vessel, loaded with sandal-wood, was brought safely back to 
Surparaka. The sandal-wood Ptirna took possession of in order 
to make a palace for the Buddha, and desired his brothers to 
invite that personage and his disciples to a repast. The invita- 
tion was -miraculously conveyed to the Buddha (who was a long 
way off, at Sravasti), and he told his followers to prepare to 



THE LEGEND OF PURNA. 457 

accept it. Ptirna returned suddenly to the Assembly (around 
Buddha) and performed a miracle. The king of Surparaka, on 
his side, made preparations on the grandest scale for the recep- 
tion of the Buddhist hierarchy, which came to his city by all 
kinds of supernatural means. Purna, standing by him, explained 
the various prodigies as they occurred. Omitting some marvel- 
ous conversions wrought by the Buddha on his way, it may be 
mentioned that he descended into the middle of the town of 
Surparalca from the air, and there taught the law, by which 
hundreds of thousands of living beings attained the several 
degrees of knowledge which lead, sooner or later, to salvation. 
Passing over a passage in which two roj^al Nagas (or serpent- 
kings) make their appearance to receive the law, and another 
in which Gautama i^roceeds to another universe to instruct the 
mother of his disciple Maudgalyayana, we arrive at the moral 
which always forms the conclusion of these Buddhist tales. 
The monks surrounding the Buddha inquired what actions 
Purna had performed in order, first, to be born in a rich family; 
secondly, to be the son of a slave; and lastly, "when he had 
entered on a religious life, to behold the condition of an Arhat * 
face to face, after having annihilated all the corruptions of 
evil ? " Buddha replied, that in the very age in which we live, 
but at a period of it when men lived twenty thousand years, 
there was a venerable Tathagata, or Buddha, named Kasyapa, 
who resided near Benares. Ptirna, who had adopted a religious 
life under him, ** fulfilled among the members of the Church t 
the duties of servant of the law." The servant of a certain 
Arhat set himself to sweep the monastery, but the wind blow- 
ing the dirt from side to side, he gave up the attempt, intend- 
ing to proceed when the wind should have abated. The servant 
of the law coming in, and finding the monastery unswept, 
allowed himself to be carried away by rage, and to utter these 
offensive words: "This is the servant of some slave's son." 

* The state of an "Arhat" is the highest of four degrees which the hearers 
of the Buddha used to attain ; i. e.. the one which led most directly to Nirvana. 
The other three degrees were those of Srotapatti, of Sakridagamin, and An- 
agamln. The Arhat was not born again ; each of the other three had a 
smaller or greater number of existences to undergo before Nirvana. 

tl translate "I'Assemblee" by this phrase, which appears tp render its 
meaning more precisely than a more literal translation. 



458 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

When he had had time to recover his calmness, the Arhat's 
servant presented himself, and asked if he knew him. The ser- 
vant of the law replied that he did, and that they both had 
entered into a religious life under the Buddha Kasyapa. The 
other rejoined that while he had fulfilled all his duties, the ser- 
vant of the law had been guilty of a fault in giving way to his 
temper, and exhorted him to diminish that fault by confession. 
The latter repented, and was thereby saved from re-birth in 
hell ; but he was doomed to be re-born for five hundred gene- 
rations in the womb of a slave. In this last existence he was 
still the offspring of a slave; but because he had formerly 
served the members of the Church, he was born in a rich and 
prosperous family; and because he had formerly read and 
studied Buddhist theology, he now became an Arhat under 
Gautama Buddha, after annihilating evil (H. B. I., p. ^35 ff). 

Such is a favorable specimen of a vast number of legends^ 
contained in the Buddhist Canon. The following fragment is 
of a rather different kind. It illustrates the extravagant adora- 
tion paid to the person of Buddha some generations after his 
death. A king named Eudrayana had sent to another, named 
Bimbisara, an armor of marvelous properties and priceless 
value. Bimbisara, at a loss what present he could send back 
which would be a fitting return for such a gift, determined to 
seek out Buddha and consult him on the point: — 

"King Bimbisara addressed him thus: — 'In the town of R6ruka, 
Lord, there lives a king called Rudrayana ; he is my friend ; though I 
have never seen him, he has sent me a present of an armor composed of 
five pieces. What present shall I give him in return?' ,* Have the rep- 
resentation of the Tathagata traced on a hit of stuff,' answered Bhagavat, 
* and send it him as a present. ' 

" Bimbisara sent for some painters, and said—' Paint on a bit of stuff 
the image of the Tathagata.' The blessed Buddhas are not very easy to 
get at, which is the reason why the painters could find no opportunity 
of [painting] Bliagvate . So they said to Bimbisara—' If the king would 
give a feast to Bhagavat in the interior of his palace, it would be possi- 
ble for us to seiz3 the occasion of [painting] the blessed one. King 
Bimbisara having accordingly invited Bhagavat to his palace, gave him 
a feast. Tlje blessed Buddhas are beings that people are never weary of 



PAINTING THE PICTURE OF BUDDHA. 459 

looking at. Whichever limb of Bhagavat the painters lo(^ked at they 
could not leave off contemplating it. So Ihey could not seize the moment 
to paint him. Bhagavat then said to the king—' The painters will have 
trouble, O great king; it is impossible for them to seize the moment to 
[paint the] Tathagata, but bring the canvass.' The king having brought 
it, Bhagavat projected his shadow on it, and said to the painters — 'Fill 
that outline with colors; and then write over it the formuhis of refuge 
as well as the precepts of instruction; you will have to trace both ini the 
direct order, and in the inverse order the production of the [successive] 
causes [of existence], which is composed of twelve terms; and on it ' 
will be written these two verses: 

" ' Begin, go out [of the house]; apply yourself to the law of Bud- 
dha; annihilate the army of death, as an elephant upsets a hut of reeds. 

"'He who shall walk without distraction under the discipline of 
this law, escaping birth and the revolution of the world, will put an 
end to sorrow.* 

" 'If any one asks what these verses are, you must answer: The 
first is the introduction; the second, the instruction; the third, the 
revolution of the world; and the fourth, the effort.'" (H. B. I., p. 341). 

Bimbisara, acting under Bhagavat's dictation, then wrote to 
Eiidrayana that he was about to send him the most precious 
object in the three worlds, and that he must adorn the wa^^ by 
wliich it would arrive for two and a half yojanas. Eudra3^ana 
was rather irritated by this message, and proposed immediate 
war, but was dissuaded by his ministers. The picture therefore 
was received with all honor, and not uncovered till after it had 
been duly adored. Certain foreign merchants who happened to 
be on the spot, on seeing the portrait, cried out altogether: 
"Adoration to Buddha." At this name the king felt his hair 
stand on end, -and inquired who Buddha was. His position, and 
the meaning of the inscription, was explained to him by the 
merchants. The consequence, as may be supposed, was his con- 
version to Buddhism. He reflected on the causes of existence, 
and attained the degree of Srotapatti (H. B. I., p.) 

Very little allusion is made in these legends to the immed- 
iate subject of the Vinaya-pitaka, namely. Discipline. But a 

* These two verses are a standing formula by which the Buddha of the 
Canon summons the world to receive his law. 



460 HOLY BOOKS. OB BIBLES, 

reference to Csoma's Analysis of the Dulva (the Tibetan title 
for the Yinaya) will show that it is in fact largely occupied in 
laying down rules for the guidance of monks and nuns, these 
rules being frequently supposed to have arisen out of particular 
erents, while " moral tales " are freely intermingled with the 
treatment of the main business. The hap-hazard manner in 
which the regulations needful for the government of the Church 
were framed — according to the theory of the Scriptures — may 
be illustrated by a few specimens. Thus, two persons in debt 
had taken orders, *'Shakya (Sakyamuni) prohibits the admis- 
sion into the religious order of any one who is in debt" (As. 
Ee., vol. XX. p. 53). This rule entirely agrees with the general 
spirit of Gautama's proceedings, as narrated in the Buddhist 
books, and we are warranted in supposing that statements so 
harmonious rest on a historical foundation. Thus, he is. said to 
have refused to admit young people without the cod sent of 
their parents, or servants of a king without their royal master's 
sanction. Eegulations like these may well have been made by 
Buddha from a cautious anxiety to avoid all conflict with estab- 
lished authorities. Further on in the same volume of the Dulva 
the reception of hermaphrodites is likewise prohibited (As. Re., 
vol. XX. p. 55). On another occasion, leave is given to learn 
swimming. " Indecencies," are then '* committed in the Ajirapati 
river. They are prohibited from touching any woman ; — they 
may not save even one that has fallen into the river" (Ibid., 
vol. XX. p. 59). Elsewhere we are told of a pious lady who pro- 
vided the infant community with cloth to make bathing clothes, 
since she had heard that both monks and nuns bathed without 
any garments (Ibid., vol. xx, p. 70). A little further on, the 
dress of the priesthood is prescribed. Some of the disciples 
wished to wear one thing, and some another; others to go 
naked. "Shakya tells them the impropriety and indecency of 
the latter, and prohibits it absolutely : and rebuking them, adds 
that such a garb, or to go naked, is the characteristic sign of 
a Mu-stegs-chan (Sansk) Tlrtliika " (Ibid., vol. xx. p. 71). Here 
again we seem to have a historical trait, for it was one of the 
distinctive features of Buddhism that its votaries were never 
naked, like the Tirthikas, or heretical ascetics, but always wore 
the vellow robe. In other places there are rules on lodging, on 



BUDDHIST MONASTIC RULES, 461 

bedding, on the treatment of quarrelsome priests, the use of 
fragrant substances, and many other trivial points of ecclesias- 
tical discipline. The volumes containing all these instructions 
are followed by one in which the same stories are told, and the 
same morals deduced from them, concerning the nuns. Then 
there are some injunctions apparently peculiar to this sex, as, 
for instance, the restraint imposed on their possession of a 
multiplicity of garments. Another prohibition was called forth 
by the following conduct of a nun. A king had sent a piece of 
fine linen cloth as a present to a brother king. "It comes 
afterwards into the hands of Gtsug-Z)gah-Mo (a lewd or wicked 
priestess) ; she puts it on,' appears in public, but from its thin 
texture, seems to be naked. The priestesses are prohibited from 
accepting or wearing such thin clothes" (As. Ee., vol. xx. p. 85). 
It will be observed from these few quotations that according 
to the Canon the Buddha's usual mode of proceeding was to 
lay down rules as occasion required. Some instructive anecdote 
is related, and the new order follows as a natural consequence 
of the event. More probably the rules were in fact made first, 
and the anecdotes subsequently composed to account for them. 
However this may be, there exist in the Canon some undoubt- 
edly ancient ordinances not called forth by any special circum- 
stances, conformity to which was required of the monks, if not 
by their founder himself, at least by the rulers of his Church 
in its most primitive condition. Such, for example, are "the 
thirteen rules by which sin is shaken," reported by Burnouf, 
which are also found, with the exception of a single one, in a 
Chinese work entitled "the sacred book of the twelve observ- 
ances" (H. B. I., p. 304). These rules belong, according to 
Burnouf, to an epoch when the organization of the monks 
under a powerful hierarchy, and their residence in settled mon- 
asteries, had scarcely begun. Some of them are even inconsist- 
ent with the institution of such monasteries, or Viharis, which 
are nevertheless very ancient. The fact that the above-named 
Chinese treatise, the pentaglot Buddhist Vocabulary,* and a 

♦ This Vocabulary is a Chinese compilation, forming one of a class of 
catalogues drawn up in ancient times by Buddhist preachers. Such cata- 
logues are found in the midst of canonical books, and are of high author-, 
Ity among Buddhists. 



462 HOLY BOOKS. OK BIBLES. 

list current among the Singhalese, all contain these articles of 
discipline (though with slight variations) proves, moreover, that 
they appertain to that common fund on which Northern and 
Southern Buddhists drew alike. The first article (following the 
order in the Vocabulary) signifies *' wearing rags found in the 
dust," and refers to an injunction addressed to the mocks to 
wear Vestments composed of rags picked up in heaps of ordure, 
in cemeteries, and such places. The second, "he who has 
three garments," corresponds to an order found in the Chinese 
book forbidding monks to have more than three garments. 
Of the third article which is corrupt, Burnouf can give no sat- 
isfactory explanation; and the fourth means "he who lives by 
alms," a practice at all times imposed on the monastic orders. 
Fifthly, the ascetic is described as *'hewho has but one seat;" 
sixthly, as "one who eats no sweetmeats after his meal,"' all 
eating for the day having to be finished by noon. Seventhly, 
he "lives in the forest," that is, in lonely places ; and eighthly, 
he is "near a tree," the Chinese injunction requiring him to 
sit near a tree, and to seek no shelter. The ninth order obliges 
them to sit on the ground, that is, to live in the open air; the 
tenth, to dwell among tombs, which the Singhalese interpret 
as an order to visit cemeteries and meditate on the instability 
of human affairs; the eleventh, to sit, and not to lie down. 
Of the meaning of the twelfth there is some doubt; it may sig- 
nify that the monk is to remain where he is, or that he is not 
to change the position of his mat when once laid down. To 
these twelve the Singhalese add a thirteenth article, that the 
monk is to live by begging from house to house. 

Not less remarkable are the ten commandments of Budd- 
hism, which are doubtless also of considerable antiquity. Bur- 
nouf states that he has found them in the sequel of the Prati- 
moksha Stitra in the Pali-Burman copy of that most important 
work (to which reference will shortly be made). These are the 
ten commandments as given in that authority: — 

1. Not to kill any living creature. 

2. Not to steal. 

3. Not to break the vow of chastity. 

4. Not to lie. 



BTTDDHIST MONASTIC RULES. 463 

5. Not to drink intoxicating liquors. 

6. Not to take a meal except at tlie appointed time. 

7. Not to visit dances, performances of vocal or instrumental mu- 
sic, or dramatic representations. 

8. Not to wear garlands, or use perfumes and unguents. 

9. Not to sleep on a high or large bed. 

10. Not to accept gold or silver (Lotus, p. 444). 

Of these commandments, some are evidently general, being 
founded on the fundamental principles of ethics ; others are ad- 
dressed only to those in orders. Such is the case with the last 
five, all of which boar reference to certain disciplinary laws im- 
posed upon the monks and nuns. Their object is to prohibit 
luxury of various kinds, such as the use of a large bed, and to 
restrain the love of sensual enjoyments, sucti as plays, music, 
and dancing. Another list of offenses, after enumerating the 
first five of those contained in the preceeding list, adds five 
more, namely :— 

1. Blasphemy of the Buddha. 

2. Blasphemy of the Law. 

3. Blasphemy of the Churoh. 

4. Heresy. 

5. Violation of a nun (Lotus, p. 445). 

Such are the leading points of monastic discipline among the 
primitive Buddhists. A more elaborate and formal treatise on 
the subject of the sins to be avoided, and the penalties to be 
imposed on their commission, is the Pratimolcsha Stitra, on 
' Sutra on Emancipation. It is the standard work on this sub- 
ject, and should be recited before the assembled Yihara twice 
in each month, any guilty brother confessing any transgression 
of its precepts of which he might be conscious. Its antiquity 
is undoubted, for in a Sutra known to have been brought to 
China from India in a.d. 70 (and therefore already of established 
repute) the Pratimoksha is referred to as the "two hundred, and 
fifty rules " (C. B. S., p. 189). It does, in fact, contain two hun- 
dred and fifty rules in its Chinese form, while the Thibetan ver- 
sion contains two hundred and fifty-three, and the Pali version 
but two hundred and twenty-seven (H. B. I., p. 303). While the 



464 HOLY BOOKS. OH BIBLES. 

Pratimoksha Sutra now to be quoted is destined for monks, or 
Bhikshus, it is to be noted that there exists likewise a "Bhiks- 
huni Pratimoksha Sutra," or Treatise on Emancipation for 
Nuns (As. Ke., voL xx. pp. 79, 84). The rules are, rhutatis mutan- 
dis, the same for both sexes. 

It will be interesting to glance rapidly at the nature of the 
faults and crimes the confession of which is here imposed on 
Bhikshus and Bhikshunis.* 

The Sutra opens with certain stanzas designed to celebrate 
the Buddhist Trinity, — the Buddha, the Law, and the Church. 
Then follow some "preparatory questions:'*— 

"Are the priests assembled? (They are.) Are all things arranged? 
(seats, water, sweeping, &c.) (They are.) Let all depart who are not or- 
dained. (If any, let them go; if none are present, let one say so.) Does 
any Bhikshu here present ask for absolution ? (Let him answer accord- 
ingly.) Exhortation must be given to the priestesses (but if there are 
none present, let one say so). Are we agreed what our present business 
is? It is to repeat the precepts in this lawful assembly. 

''Venerable brethren, attend now I On this . . . day of the 
month .... let the assembled priests listen attentively and pa- 
tiently, whilst the precepts are distinctly recited. 

COMMENCEMENT. 

** Brethren! I desire to go through the Pratimoksha. Bhikshus! 
assembled thus, let all consider and devoutly reflect on these precepts. 
If any have transgressed, let him repent! If none have transgressed, 
then stand silent! silent! Thus, brethren, it shall be known that ye are 
guiltless. 

" Now if a stranger ask one of us a question we are bound to reply 
truthfully: so, also, Bhikshus, we who reside in community, if we 
know that we have done wrong, and yet decline to acknowledge it, we 
are guilty of prevarication. But Buddha has declared that prevarica- 
tion effectually prevents our religious advancement. That brother, 
therefore, who is conscious of transgression, and desires absolution, 

* The translation of this Sutra is due to Mr. Beal. to whose most useful 
labors on Buddhism I am much indebted.— 0. B. S., p. 206. 



BUDDHIST MONASTIC EULES. 465 

ought at once to declare his fault, and after proper penance he shall have 
rest and peace. 

" Brethren! having repeated this preface, I demand of you all— Is 
this assembly pure or not? (Repeat this three times.) Brethren! this 
assembly is pure; silent! silent! ye stand! So let it be! Brethren, I 
now proceed to recite the four parajika laws, ordered to be recited 
twice every month." 

These four laws are then repeated, and the penalty of ex- 
communication, which attaches to a breach of any of them, is 
enunciated. The first of the four prohibits impure conduct; 
the second, theft. The third runs as follows:— 

*' If a Bhikshu cause a man's death, or hold a weapon and give it a 
man (for the purpose), or if he speak of the advantages of death, or if 
he carelessly exhort one to meet death (saying), ' Tush, you are a brave 
man,* or use such wicked speech as this, * It is far better to die and not 
to live,' using such considerations as these, bringing every sort of ex- 
pedient into use, praising death, exhorting to death: this Bhikshu 
ought to be excluded and cut off." 

The fourth rule is against pretending to a perfect knowledge 
of the Truth which the Bhikshu does not in fact possess. 

At the end of the recitation of these four rules it is declared 
that a brother who has transgressed any .one of them "has 
acquired the guilt which demands exclusion, and ought not to 
live as a member of the priesthood." The question as to the 
purity of the Assembly is then again put, and the priest (after 
declaring it pure) proceeds to thirteen rules, the breach of which 
is punished by suspension. The first restrains a monk from 
pampering lustful thoughts, the second from bringing any part 
of his body in contact with that of a woman, the third from 
lewd talk with a woman, the fourth from obtaining a woman to 
minister to him. For a violation of this last injunction the 
highest penance, as well as suspension, is appointed. There 
follow rules against buildiog a residence of illegal size, or with- 
out due consecration, or on an inconvenient site ; against build- 
ing a Yihara on an inconvenient site; against slander of a 
Bhikshu (two rules), against causing disunion in a community. 



466 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

against foruiing a cabal for mutual protection against just cen- 
sure, against disorderly conduct when living in a house, against 
a refusal to listen to expostulation or reproof. Solitary confine- 
ment, and six days of penance, are the penalties imposed on 
these offenses; after the infliction of the sentence absolution is 
to be given. Next we have two rules '*not capable of exact 
definition," but relating to licentious talk with "a faithful lay- 
woman." Thirty rules relating to priests' robes and the like 
matters are now recited. They seem to be aimed at covetous- 
ness in receiving or asking gifts. After the usual inquiry as 
to the purity of the brethren, ninety rules against offenses 
requiring "confession and absolution" are to be read. Some of 
these seem to be repetitions of previous ones belonging to a 
more serious category, as the first two» on lying and slander, 
and the eighth, against pretended knowledge. Then the Prati- 
moksha proceeds to say that if a Bhikshu use hypocritical lan- 
guage, if he occupy the same lodging as a woman, or the same 
as a man not yet ordained above two nights, if he chant prayers 
with a man not yet ordained, if he rail at a priest, if he use 
water containing insects (so as to destroy life), if he give clothes 
to a Bhikshu ni, or nun, if he go with a Bhikshiini in any boat 
except a ferry-boat, if he agree to walk with a Bhikshui along 
the road, if he gambol in the water while bathing, if he drink 
distilled or fermented liquor, or commit any of the many other 
faults, partly against morality in general, partly against con- 
ventual rule, he is guilty of a transgression of this class. Four 
rules follow against receiving food from -a nun, against allow- 
ing a nun in a layman's house to point out certain dishes, and 
have them given to certain monks; against going to dinner 
uninvited ; against the omission on the part of a monk residing 
in a dangerous place to warn those who may bring him victuals 
of the risk they run. A hundred rules, mostly trifling, are now 
entered on. They are -such as these: "Not to enter a layman's 
house in a bouncing manner." "Not to munch or make a 
munching noise in eating rice," and likewise, "not to make a 
lapping noise." "Not to clean the teeth under a pagoda;" 
with many other minute regulations on a multitude of trivial 
points. The seven concluding laws refer simply to the mode of 
deciding cases. 



THE SUTEA - PITAKA. 467 

Subdivision 2.— 27ie Sutra-Pitaka. 

We have thus concluded our notice of the Pratimoksha 
Sutra, and may pass on to the Sutra-pitaka, the second of the 
three baskets into which the Canon is divided. Sutra is ai'term 
signifying a discourse, or lecture, and the Siitras of Buddhism 
are frequently moral stories, supposed to emanate from Gaut- 
ama Buddha himself, *and embodying the great features of his 
gospel, as the Sermon on the Mount and the Parables do those 
of the gospel of Jesus. A very interesting collection of such 
stories belonging to the Sutra-pitaka is contained in a work 
translated from the Thibetan by a Russian scholar, and form- 
ing, under the title of the J3dsangs-61un, or the Wise Man and 
the Fool, a portion of the twenty-eighth volume of the ilfdo, or 
Sutra-pitaka. From Csoma's Ananysis it appears that many 
other narratives of a similar nature are embodied in this section 
of the Canon, though much of it also consists of more direct 
dogmatic instruction. From "The Wise Man and the Fool" 
I select a chapter which affords a good illustration of the 
boundless charity which Buddhism inculcates. 

The victoriously-perfect One was living at Sravasti. When 
the time came to receive alms, he set out with his disciple 
Ananda, alms-bowl in hand, along the road. It so happened 
that he met two men who had been condemned to death for 
repeated robberies, and were being led to execution. Their 
mother, seeing the Buddha, thus addressed him: — *'0 chief of 
gods, think of us with mercy, and vouchsafe to take under thy 
protection these my sons who are going to execution." Buddha 
accordingly interceded with the king, who gave them a free 
pardon. Touched with gratitude, the two men asked leave to 
become monks, and on Buddha's consenting to receive them, 
their hair at once fell off from head and face, and their gar- 
ments assumed the yellow hue of the order.* Both mother and 
sons attained high spiritual grades. Ananda marveled what 
good deeds these three could have performed to meet with the 
victoriously-perfect One, to be saved from such great evils, and 
to obtain the prospect of Nirvana. Buddha thereupon informed 

* This is a standing miracle on the reception of novices by Buddha. 



468 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

him that this was not the first occasion on which he had saved 
their lives, and on Ananda's request for a further explanation, 
related the following circumstances. Countless years ago, there 
lived in Jumbudwipa (India) a certain king who had three sous. 
The youngest son was mild and merciful from his childhood 
upwards. One day, when the king, with his ministers, wives 
and sons, was at a picnic outside the town, the three sons went 
into a wood, where they found a tigress, with young recently 
littered, so nearly starved that she was almost on the point of 
devouring her own brood. The youngest asked his brothers 
what food a tigress would eat. ''Newly-killed meat and warm 
blood." "Is there any one who would support its life with his 
own body?" "No one," replied the elder brothers; "that 
would be too difficult" (I give only the substance of this col- 
loquy). Then the youngest prince thought within himself: 
"Eor a long time I have been driven about in the circle of 
births, -^nd have thrown away my body and my life innumer» 
able times ; often have I sacrificed it for the passion of the de- 
sires, often for that of rage, often too for folly and ignorance; 
what value then has this body, which has not one single time 
trodden the field of meritorious actions for the sake of religion!" 
Meantime, all three had walked on ; but the youngest, pleading 
some business of his own, desired them to go on, leaving him 
to follow. Having returned to the cave of the tigress, he laid 
himself down beside her, but found her too weak to open her 
mouth. Hereupon the prince contrived to bleed himself with a 
sharp splinter of wood, and the tigress, after licking the blood 
that flowed from him, was sufficiently refreshed to consume him 
altogether. The two elder brothers, wondering at his long ab- 
sence, returned to the tiger's hole, where, on finding his remains, 
they rolled upon the ground and fainted, overcome with grief. 
The queen, who had had an alarming dream, questioned them 
anxiously on their return as to their brother, and she too on 
learning the sad event, which ther choking voices for some time 
prevented them from telling, fell senseless to the ground. Soon 
after, both king and queen visited the den, but could find noth- 
ing but bones. Meantime, the prince had been born again in 
the Tushita heaven. Looking about to discover what good 
action of his had brought him to this place, he saw the bones 



UPAGUPTA AND VASAVADATTA. 469 

of his former body in the ti{?ress's den, and his parents sighing 
and groaning around them. He returned from his lieaveniy 
abode to give them some consolation and some good advice. 
They were at length somewhat comforted, and collecting his 
bones, buried them in a costly sarcophagus. 

Buddha then turns to Ananda and asks him whom he sup- 
poses the actors in this tragedy to have been. He tells him, 
without waiting for an answer, that the king was his present 
father, the queen his present mother, the elder princes certain 
personages named Maitreya and Vasumitra, and the youngest 
prince no other than himself. The young tigers were, it need 
hardly be said, the condemned felons whom he had now again 
delivered from death. 

While this anecdote inculcates charity in its fullest extent, 
the one which is now to be quoted illustrates another most 
conspicuous point in the ethics of Buddhism, — the regard paid 
by it to personal purity and the deadening influence it exercised 
on the senses. The translation of this curious legend is due to 
Burnouf : — 

'* There was at MathurS a courtesan called V^savadalta. Her maid 
went one day to TJpagupta to buy her some perfumes. V^savadattS said 
to her on her return : * It seems, my dear, that this perfumer pleases 
you, as you always buy from him.' The maid answered her: ' Daughter 
of my master, TJpagupta, the son of the merchant, who is gifted with 
beauty, with talent, and with gentleness, passes his life in the observance 
of the law.' On hearing these words Y^savadatta conceived an affection 
for Upagnpta, and at last she sent her maid to say to him : ' My intention 
is to go and find you; I wish to enjoy myself with you.' The maid 
delivered her message to TJpagupta; but the young man told her to 
answer her mistress: 'My sister, it is nol yet time for you to see me.' 
Now it was necessary in order to obtain the favors of VSsavadatta to 
give five hundred Puranas. Thus the courtezan imagined that [if he 
refused her, it was because] he could not give the five hundred PurSnas. 
For this reason, she sent her maid to him again to say, * I do not ask a 
single KSrehSpana from the son of my master; I only wish to enjoy my- 
self with him. ' The maid again delivered this new message, and TJpa- 
gupta answered her in the same way : ' My sister, it is not time yet for 
you to see me.' 



470 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

'* However, the son of a master-workman had come to settle with 
VasavadattS, when a merchant, who was bringing from the north five 
hundred horses which he wished to sell, came to the town of Mathura, 
and asked who was the most beautiful courtezan. He was answered 
that V^savadatt^ was. Immediately, taking 500 PurSnas and a great 
number of presents, he went to the courtezan. Then V^savadatt^, 
urged by covetousness, assassinated the son of the master-workman, who 
was at her house, threw his body into the middle of the filth of the town, 
and gave herself up to the merchant. Aftfer some days, the young man 
was extricated from the filth by his parents, who denounced the murder. 
The king at once gave orders to the executioners to go and cut off Vtsa- 
vadatt^'s hands, feet, ears, and nose, and to leave her in the cemetery. 
The executioners carried out the orders of the king, and left the courte- 
zan in the place named. 

" Now Upagupta heard of the punishment that had been inflicted on 
Ya;savadatt^, and at once this idea came into his mind: * Some time ago, 
this woman wished to see me for a sensual object, and I did not consent 
that she should see me. But now that her hands and feet, ears and nose, 
have been cut off, it is time she should see me,* and he pronounced these 
verses: 

" 'When her body was covered with beautiful attire, when she shone 
with ornaments of different sorts, the best thing for those who aspired 
to deliverance and who wished to escape the law of renewed birth was 
not to go and see this woman. 

** * To-day, when she has lost her pride, her love and her joy, when 
she has been mutilated by the edge of the knife, when her body is 
reduced to its true nature, it is time to see her. ' 

"Then sheltered by a parasol carried by a young man who accompa- 
nied him as a servant, he went to the cemetery with a measured step. 
Y^savadatta's maid had stayed with her mistress out of gratitude for 
her past kindness, and she prevented the crows from approaching her 
body. [Seeing Upagupta] she said to her: ' Daughter of my master, he 
to whom you sent me several times, Upagupta, is coming this way. No 
doubt he comes attracted by the desire for pleasure.* But VSsavadatt^, 
hearing these words, answered: 

" ' When he sees me deprived of beauty, racked with grief, lying on 
the ground all covered with blood, how can he feel love of pleasure? * 

" Then she said to her maid; 'Friend, pick up the limbs that have 



THE SUTRiS, SIMPLE AND DEVELOPED. 471 

been severed from my body. ' The maid picked them up at once, and hid 
them under a bit of linen. At this moment Upagupta arrived, and he 
stood up before Vasavadattl The courtezan, seeing him standing up 
before her, said to him: * Son of my master, when my body was whole, 
when it was made for enjoyment, I several times sent my maid to you, 
and you answered me: "My sister, it is not time for you to see me." 
To-day, when the kiiile has carried off my hands and feet, my ears and 
nose, when 1 am thrown in the dirt and in blood, why do you come? ' 
And she uttered the following verses : 

" 'When my body was soft like the lotus flower, when it was adorned 
with ornaments and rich clothes, when it had all which attracted the 
eye, I was so unhappy as not to see you. 

"'To-day why do you come to contemplate a* body, the sight at 
which the eyes cannot bear, which games, pleasure, joy, and beauty 
have abandoned, which inspires horror, and is stained with blood and 
dirt?' 

"Upagupta answered her: '1 have not come to you, my sister, 
attracted by the love of pleasure ; but I am come to see the real nature 
of the miserable objects of the enjoyments of man '" (H. B. I., p. 146 ff). 

Such is the character of the more ancient portions of the 
Sutra-pitaka. It consists largely of tales, most of which have 
much the same outward form, the details only being varied; 
and all of which are intended to impress some kind of moral 
upon their hearers. But the Sutra collection is composed of 
two different classes of works, the one class being named by 
Burnouf simple Sutras, the other developed Sutras. The devel- 
oped Sutras belong, according to the same authority, to a much 
later period, and are marked off from the siaiple Sutras by 
certain well-defined characters. They are indeed of a kind 
which absolutely precludes the notion that they can emanate 
in any way whatever from Sakj^amuni, or that they could have 
been composed during the modest beginnings of his Church, 
when his followers were rather intent on practical goodnci^s 
than on pompous and high-flown descriptions of their Master's 
magnificence. Net that all the Sutras classed by Burnouf as 
simple must needs belong to a very early age; but that the 
developed Sutras certainly could not have been written until 
some centuries after Sakyamuni's death, when his disciples, 



4^2 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

instead of using their voices in actual conversation, enjoyed the 
leisure and the means to employ their pens in attempted fine 
writing. Burnouf has given the public a single specimen of a 
Sutra of this class, and they must be very devoted students of 
Oriental literature who wish for another. Here is a sample of 
its style: — 

"Then the Bodhisattva Mahasattva Akshayamati having 
risen from his seat, after throwing his upper garment over his 
shoulder, and placing his right knee on the ground, directing 
his joined hands, in token of respect, to the quarter where Bha- 
gavat was, addressed him in these words : ' Why, O Bhagavat, 
does the Bodhisattva Mahasttva Avalokitesvara bear that 
name?' This having been said, Bhagavat spoke thus to the 
Bodhisattva Akshayamati: ' O son of a family, all the hundreds 
of thousands of myriads of creatures existing in the world who 
suffer pains, have but to hear the name of the Bodhisattva 
Avalokitesvara to be delivered from this mass of pains ' " 
(Lotus, p. 261). 

The extraordinary diffuseness of this kind of composition is 
scarcely credible. Not only is every doctrine elaborated in the 
utmost number of words possible, but its exposition in prose is 
regularly followed by a second exposition in verse. Add to this 
peculiar feature of developed Sutras another, namely, that 
innumerable crowds of supernatural auditors (especially Bodhis- 
attvas, or future Buddhas) are present at their delivery by the 
Buddha, and take part in the dialogue, or demand explanations 
on knotty points, and some conception may be formed of their 
wholly unreal and unnatural character. Thus, the Lotus con- 
cludes with the statement that innumerable Tathagatas (Budd- 
has) come from other universes, seated on thrones near diamond 
trees, innumerable Bodhisattvas, and the whole- of the four 
assemblies of the universe, with Devas (gods), men, Asuras, and 
Gandharvas, transported with joy, praised what Bhagavat had 
said. Although the simple Sutras mention the presence of gods 
at the Buddha's teaching, yet they do not (so far as I am 
aware) introduce these hosts of Bodhisattvas and Buddhas 
belonging to other worlds than ours. Their horizon had not 
extended itself to such vast limits, and they confined themselves 
to the universe in which we live. 



BUDDHIST METAPHYSICS. 473 

Subdivision d.—The Abhidharma-pitaka. 

A third section of the Canon remains, the Abhidharma, or 
Metaphysics. Buddhist metaphysics are so absolutely mystical 
that it would be a waste of time to enlarge upon them in a 
work not specially consecrated to Oriental subjects. The sub- 
tleties of the Indian mind would require far more space to 
explain than would be consistent with the objects in view here, 
even if the writer were competent to explain them. The im- 
pression left on the mind by the perusal of the Adhidharma is 
that we delude ourselves if we believe in the reality of anything 
whatever. There is no material world ; all we see, hear, feel or 
believe, is illusion; our thoughts themselves are no-thoughts; 
this doctrine is that of wisdom and truth, but there is no wis- 
dom and no truth. The Buddha arrives by his meditations at 
this sublime knowledge; but there is no meditation and no 
knowledge. He conducts living creatures to Nirvana : but there 
are neither creatures to be conducted, nor a Buddha to conduct 
them. All is nothingness, and nothingness is all. That this 
nihilism is common to all the schools into which Buddhists are 
divided, I do not mean to assert. There are in Nepaul .certain 
schools which hold a peculiar modification of theism, and they 
probably may not embrace these strange and unintelligible sys- 
tems. But the views— if views they can be called— which have 
just been described, do mark the canonical books of the Abhid- 
harma with which I am acquainted; such as the so-called 
Pradjna Parmamita, or Perfection of Wisdom. There is, how- 
ever, one metaphysical theory which is not a mere series of con- 
tradictions, and which, from its close connection with the deep- 
est roots of the Buddhistic faith, deserves more than a mere 
cursory mention. It is the dogma known as that of the twelve 
Nidanas, or successive causes of existence. 

It has already been explained that the original aim of Budd- 
hism—the salvation offered by Sakyamuni — was deliverance 
from this painful existence. The four truths which formed the 
foundation of his system have also been spoken of. It may be 
well to remind the reader that they are these :— 1. The exist- 
ence of Pain ; 2. The production of Pain ; 3. The annihilation of 



474 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

Pain ; 4. The way to the annihilation of Pain. Now if existence 
was, as the Buddhists believed, the source of pain, it was impor- 
tant to discover the source of existence. This the theory of the 
Nidanas professes to do. Tt is therefore not only intimatoly 
related to the four great truths, but forms an essential supple- 
ment to them. A very ancient formula, discovered not only in 
books but on images, declares that, *' Of all things proceeding 
from cause, the cause of their procession hath the Tathagata 
explained. The great Sramana has likewise declared the cause 
of the extinction of all things." Whether this formula refers to 
the four truths, or to the Nidanas, it is impossible to say. The 
Nidanas, however, might well be referred to in these terms. 
They are described in a passage which Burnouf has quoted 
from the Lalitavistara, in which the Bodhisattva (afterwards 
Buddha) is stated to have risen through prolonged meditation 
from the knowledge of each successive consequent to that of its 
antecedent. The Bodhisattva, we are told, collected his thoughts 
and fixed his intelligence in the last watch of night, just before 
the dawn appeared. "Then this thought came into his mind: 
The existence of this world, which is born, grows old, dies, falls, 
and is born again, is certainly an evil. But he could not recog- 
nize the means of quitting this world, which is nothing but a 
great accumulation of sorrows, which is composed but of decrep- 
itude, illness, death, and other miseries, which are altogether 
formed of them. 

"This reflection brought the following thought into his 
mind : What is the thing the existence of which leads to decrep- 
itude and death, and what cause have decrepitude and death? 
This reflection came into his mind: Birth existing, decrepitude 
and death exist; for decrepitude and death have birth as their 
cause." 

A similar process of reasoning led him to see that the cause 
of birth was existence; that of existence, conception; that of 
conception, desire ; that of desire, sensation; that of sensation, 
contact; that of contact, the six seats of sensible qualities; that 
of the six seats, name and form ; that of name and form, knowl- 
edge ; that of knowledge, the concepts ; that of the concepts, 
ignorance. "It is thus," exclaims the Bodhisattva when this 
great light had burst upon him, " it is thus that the production 



BUDDHIST METAPHYSICS. 475 

of this world, which is but a mass of sorrows, takes place." 
And by an inverse process he went on to reflect that if ignor- 
ance did not exist, neither would the concepts, and so on 
through every link of the chain. Until at length, *'from the 
annihilation of birth results the annihilation of decrepitude, of 
death, of sufferings, of lamentations, of sorrow, of regret, of 
despair. It is thus that the annihilation of this world, which is 
but a mass of sorrows, takes place " (H. B. I., p. 487). 

This speculation is by no means easy to understand. Ap- 
parently it means that ignorance, in the sense of a mistaken 
notion of the reality of the material world, leads to a whole 
series of blunders, ending inevitably in birth. From this fun- 
damental error or belief in the existence of sensible objects 
spring certain other false conceptions. Knowledge, which next 
ensues, may mean not merely cognition but consciousness, 
knowledge of our existence; and in this sense, or in something 
like it, it must be taken in order to explain the apparent para- 
dox of a deduction of the pedigree of knowledge directly from 
ignorance. Hence name and form, a still further distinction of 
the individual — a specialization of the vague knowledge of 
himself which the last stage brought him to. The next step 
carries us on to the six seats of sensible qualities; a phrase 
expressing the organs by which sensible qualities are perceived 
—the five senses, and Manas, the heart, which the Indians con- 
sidered as a sixth sense. It appears also from Burnouf's re- 
marks that the Sanskrit term includes along with the organs 
the qualities they perceive, the Law being assigned to the heart 
or internal sense as the object of its perception. The six 
seats being given, contact follows; contact implies sensation, 
and sensation naturally leads to desire. Conception is repre- 
sented as the effect of desire, but another translation of this 
term by attachment, fondness for material things, renders the 
sequence easier to understand. Attachment to anything but the 
three gems — the Buddha, the Law, and the Church — is, how- 
ever, a fatal error, and leads to the melancholy result of exist- 
ence. Evidently, however, the being whose downward progress 
has thus been described must have existed before, and the 
event here alluded to must probably be the passage into the 
definite condition of the human embryo. And this is rather 



476 HOLY BOOKS, OR BIBLES. 

confirmed by the fact that the next step is that of birth, fol- 
lowed, as a matter of course, by the miseries of human life, 
terminating in death.* And death, unless every remnant of 
attachment to, and desire for, all worldly things has been 
purged away, unless every trace of sinful tendencies has been 
obliterated, is but a fresh beginning of the same weary round. 

Subdivision 4. — Theology and Ethics of the Tripitaka. 

Thus we have examined in succession the three great divis^ 
ions of the Buddhist Canon. We may pass over a comparatively 
late and spurious addition to it, the Tantras — full of the wor- 
ship of strange gods and goddesses, and of magical formularies 
— to consider the general features of these sacred works in ref- 
erence to their theological teaching and to their moral tendency. 
Theology is perhaps a term that will be held to be misplaced 
in speaking of a system which acknowledges no God. Yet 
Buddhism is so full of supernatural creatures, and the Buddha 
himself occupies a position so nearly divine, that it would be 
hard to find a more appropriate word. Buddha himself is the 
central figure of the whole of his system, far more completely 
than Christ is the central figure of Christianity, or Mahomet of 
Islam. There is no Deity above him; he stands out alone, 
unrivaled, unequaled, and unapproachable. The gods of the 
Hindu pantheon are by no means annihilated in the Buddhist 
Scriptures. On the contrary, they play a certain part in them, 
as when some of the greatest among their number assist at the 
delivery of Maya. But the part assigned to them is always a 
subordinate one ; they are practically set aside, not by the skep- 
tical process of questioning their existence, but by the more 
subtle one of introducing them as humbly seated at the Budd- 
ha's footstool, and devout recipients of his instructions. Hos- 
tility to Gautama Buddha there may be, but not from them. 
It. proceeds from heretical Brah mans — rivals in trade — and 
from those whom they may for a time deceive. The gods are 
among the most docile of his pupils, and display a praiseworthy 

* I do not pretend to any certainty that the above interpretation is cor- 
rect, but I have in the main foUowea a trustworthy guide, Burnouf. See H. 
B. L. p. m-607. 



SUC0ES8IYE INCARNATIONS OF BUDDHA. 477 

eagerness to acquire the knowledge he may condescend to im- 
part. Infinitely above gods and men, because possessing infin- 
itely deeper knowledge and infinitely higher virtue, stands the 
Tathagata, the man who walks in the footsteps of his prede- 
cessors. His position is the greatest to which any mortal crea- 
ture can attain. But it has been attained by many before, and 
will be by many hereafter. Far away into ages separated from 
ours by millions of millions of years stretches the long list of 
Buddhas, for every age has received a similar light to lighten 
up its darkness. All have led lives marked by the same inci- 
dents, and have taught the same truths. But by and by the 
darkness has returned; the doctrines of the former Buddha 
have been forgotten, and a new one has been needed. Then 
in due season he has appeared, and has again opened to man- 
kind the path of salvation. Thus Kasyapa Buddha preceded 
Gautama Buddha, and Maitreya (now a Bodhisattva) will suc- 
ceed him. The Buddha is an object of the most devout adora- 
tion. Prayers are addressed to him ; his relics are enshrined in 
Stupas, or buildings erected by the piety of believers to cover 
them; his footprints are viewed with reverential awe, and his 
tooth, preserved in Ceylon, receives the constant homage of 
that pious population. Thus his position is not unlike that of a 
true Deity, though the theory of Buddhism would require us to 
suppose that he is non-existent, and therefore wholly unable to 
aid his worshipers. But this theory is not acted upon, and is 
probably not held in all its strictness; for Buddha — though to 
some extent superseded in Northern Buddhsim by other divini- 
ties—is the object of a decided worship in both its elements of 
prayer and praise. 

But the preeminent station occupied by a Buddha is not 
reached without a long and painful education. Through ages, 
the length of which is scarcely to be expressed by numbers, 
they are qualifying themselves for their glorious task. During 
this period they are termed Bodhisattvas, that is, beings who 
have taken a solemn resolution to become Buddhas, and are 
practicing the necessary virtues. The very fact of taking this 
resolution is an exercise of exalted benevolence, for their excel- 
lence is such that they might, if they pleased, enter at once 
into Nirvana. But such is their love for the human race, that 



478 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

they prefer to be born again and again in a world of woe, in 
order to throw open Nirvana to others besides themselves. To 
attain their end, they must make an offering to some actual 
Buddha, wishing at the same time that by virtue of this act 
t^hey may become Buddhas themselves ; and they must receive 
an assurance from the object of their gift that this wish will be 
fulfilled. Thus Gautama, who happened at the time to be a 
prince, presented a golden vessel full of oil to a Buddha named 
Parana Dipankara, with the wish alluded to, and was assured 
by him that he would in a future age become a supreme 
Buddha (M. B., p. 92). The tales of the pains endured, the sac- 
rifices made, the virtues practiced by Gautama during this pro- 
bationary period are numerous and varied. He himself, by 
virtue of his faculty of knowing the past, related them to his 
disciples. He had sacrificed wife, children, property, even his 
own person, for the good of other living creatures; he had en- 
dured all kinds of sufferings ; he had shown himself capable of 
the rarest unselfishness, the most perfect purity, the most 
unswerving rectitude. The tale of his endurances might move 
compassion, had it not been crowned at last with the highest 
reward to which a mortal can aspire. 

While the Buddha occupies the first rank among human and 
superhuman beings, and a Bodliisattva the second, the Scrip- 
tures introduce us to others holding very conspicuous places 
among the spiritual nobility. Such, for instance, are the Prat- 
yeka Buddhas. These are persons of very high intelligence and 
very extraordinary merit. But they are unable to communicate 
their knowledge to others. They can save themselves; others 
they cannot save. Herein lies their inferiority to supreme 
Buddhas,— that while their spiritual attainments are sufficient 
to ensure their entry into Nirvana, they are inadequate to en- 
able them to obtain the same privilege for any other person.- 

In addition to these not very interesting Buddhas, the 
legends speak of certain grades of intelligence attained by 
Gautama's hearers. Thus, we are often told that many of the 
audience — perhaps hundreds of thousands — after hearing a ser- 
mon from him, became Arhats; others are said to have become 
Anagamin, Sakridagamin, or Srotapanna. These degrees are 
based upon the reception of the four truths. According to the 



BUDDHIST MORALITY. 479 

manner in which a man received these truths, he entered one 
of eight paths, each of the four degrees having two classes, a 
higher and a lower one. Sometimes these paths are called 
"fruits;" a disciple is said to obtain the fruits of such and such 
a state. An Arhat is a person of very high station indeed. 
Excepting a Buddha, none is equal to him, either in knowledge 
or miraculous powers, both of which he possesses to a preemi- 
nent extent. The Arhat after his death enters at once into Nir- 
vana. The Anagamin enters the third path (from the bottom), 
and is exempt from re-birth except in the world of Devas, or 
gods. He who obtains or "sees" the fruit of the second path 
is born once more in the world of gods or in that of men. 
Finally, the Srotapanna undergoes re-birth either among gods 
or men seven times, and is then delivered from the stream of 
existence.* 

Eelow the fortunate travelers along the path stands the mass 
of ordinary believers. All of these, of course, aim ultimately— 
or should aim — at that perfection of knowledge and of charac- 
ter which ensures Nirvana; but in popular Buddhism at the 
present day this distant goal appears to be well-nigh forgotten, 
and to have given place to some heaven, or place of enjoyment, 
arbove which the general hope does not rise. 

Believers in general are divided into two classes, Bhikshus 
and Bhikshunis, or monks and nuns ; and Upasakas, lay disci- 
ples. The distinction between these classes is well illustrated 
by the following extract from a sacred book, the consideration 

* The authorities do not entirely agree in the accounts they give of the 
speed with which these paths lead to Nirvana. The above statement appears 
to me unQuestionably the oldest and most authentic. It isi in agreement with 
Eitel, Sanskrit-Chinese Dictionary, sub vucibus (Sakridagamin, however, is 
omitted), and with Hardy, E. M.. p. 280. 

Eitel indeed adds that an Arhat, if he does not enter Nirvana, may become 
a Buddha, but this is probably a N©rthern perversion of the original notion. 
In the genuine authorities, a Bodhisattva is quite distinct from an Arhat. 
The account derived by Burnouf (H. B. 1. p. 291 ff.) from Northern sources is 
palpably a corruption of the oldest doctrine, proceeding from that unbounded 
love of exaggerated numbers which is the besetting sin of Buddhist writers. 
According to this version, the Srotapanna must pass through 80,000 ages be- 
fore his seven births; the Sakridagamin, after 60,000 ages, is to be born once 
as a man and once as agod ; the Anagamin, after 40,000 ages, is exempted from 
re-birth in the world of desire, and arrives at supreme knowledge ; which the 
Arhat reaches aftor 20.000 ages. Poor comfort this to souls longing for their 
eternal rest. Cf. Koppen, R. B., vol. i. p. 498. 



480 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

of which will lead us from the domain of theology into that of 
morality:— "What is to be done in the condition of a mendi- 
cant?— The rules of chastity must be observed during the whole 
of life. — That is not possible ; are there no other means ? — 
There are others, friend; namely, to be a devotee (Upasaka). — 
What is to be done in this condition?— It is necessary during 
the whole of one's life to abstain from murder, theft, pleasure, 
lying, and the use of intoxicating liquors." The injunctions 
thus stated to be binding on the laity are in fact the first five 
of the ten commandments, pleasure being simply a designation 
of unchastity, which the layman as well as the monk is here 
ordered to eschew. The first five commandments are in fact 
general, referring to universal ethical obligations, not merely 
to monastic discipline, like the other five. But Buddhist moral- 
ity is by no means merely negative. It enjoins not only absti- 
nence from such definite sins as these, but the practice of posi- 
tive virtues in their most exalted forms. In no system is benev- 
olence, or, as it is termed in the English New Testament, char- 
ity, more emphatically inculcated. Exhibited, as we have seen 
it is, in the highest degree by Buddha himself, it should be 
illustrated to the extent of their capabilities by all his followers. 
Chastity is the subject of almost equal praise. And the other 
virtues come in for their share of recognition, the general object 
of the examples held up to admiration being to exhort the 
faithful to a life spotless in all its parts, like that of their mas- 
ter. With this aim the legends related generally fail into some 
such form as this: Characters appear who undergo some suf- 
fering, but receive also some great reward, such as mee<:ing 
with Buddha, and embracing his religion. It is then explained 
by Euddha that the suffering's were the result of some bad action 
done in a former life, and the benefit received the result of 
some good action; while he will probably add that he himseK 
in that bygone age stood in the relation of a benefactor to the 
recipient of his faith. Or a number of persons are introduced 
playing various parts, good and evil, and receiving blessings or 
misfortunes. One of these is conspicuous by the excellence of 
his conduct. Then, at the end of the story, the disciples are 
told not to imagine that this model of virtue is any other than 
Sakyamuni himself, while the other characters are translated, 



THE CORNER-STONE OF BUDDHIST ETHICS. 481 

according to I heir special peculiarities, each into some individ- 
ual living at the time, and forming either one of Buddha's ret- 
inue, or connected with him by ties of kindred, or (if wicked) 
marked by hostility to his person or doctrine. Thus, the bad 
parts in these dramas are often allotted to his cousin Devadatta, 
who figures in these Scriptures as liis typical opponent. 

The essential doctrine of all these moral fictions — the corner- 
stone of Buddhist ethics — is that every single act of virtue 
receives its reward, every single transgression its punishment. 
The consequences of our good deeds or misdeeds, mystically 
embodied in our Karma, follow us from life to life, from earth 
to heaven, from earth to hell, and from heaven or hell to earth 
again. Karma expresses an idea by no -means easily seized. 
Perhaps it may be defined as the sum total of our moral actions, 
good and bad, conceived as a kind of entity endowed with the 
force of destiny. It is our Karma that determines the charac- 
ter of our successive existences. It is our Karma that deter- 
mines whether our next birth shall be in heaven or hell, in a 
happy or miserable condition here below. And as Karma is 
but the result of our own actions, each of which must bear its 
proper fruit, the balance, either on the credit or debit side of 
our account, must always be paid ; to us or by us, as the case 
may be. 

Let us illustrate this by an instance or two. A certain 
prince, named Kunala, remarkable for his personal beauty, had 
been deprived of his eyes through an intrigue in his father's 
harem. Sakj^amuni, in pointing the moral, informs his disciples 
that Kunala had formerly been a huntsman, who finding five 
hundred gazelles in a cave, had put out their eyes in order to 
preclude their escape. For this cruelty he had suffered the 
pains of hell for hundreds of thousands of years, and had then 
had his eyes put out in human existences. But Kunala also 
enjoyed great advantages. He was the son of a king, he pos- 
sessed an attractive person, and, above all, he had embraced the 
truths of Buddhism. Why was this? Because he had once 
caused a Siupa of a former Buddha, which an unbelieving mon- 
arch had suffered to be pulled to pieces, to be rebuilt, and had 
likewise restored a statue of this same Buddha which had been 
spoilt CH. B. I., p. 414). The truly Buddhistic spirit of th'o 



482 HOLT BOOKS. OE BIBLES. 

young prince is evinced by the circumstance that he interceded 
earnestly with his father for the pardon of his step-mother who 
had caused him to be so cruelly mutilated. 

In another case, a poor old woman, who had led a miserable 
existence as the slave of an unfeeling master and mistress, was 
re-born in one of the heavens, known as that of the three-and- 
thirty gods. Five hundred goddesses descended to the cemetery 
where she had been heedlessly thrown into the ground, strewed 
flowers on her bones, and offered them spices. The reason of 
all this honor was, that on the previous day she had met with 
Katyayana, an apostle of Buddhism, had drawn water and pre- 
sented it to him in his bowl, and had consequently received a 
blessiDg from him, with an exhortation to enter her mistress's 
room after she had gone to sleep, and sitting on a heap of hay 
to fix her mind exclusively upon Buddha. This advice she had 
attended to, and had consequenty received the above-named 
reward (W. u. T., p. 153). 

Good and evil, under this elaborate system, are thus the 
seeds which, by an invariable law, produce their appropriate 
fruits in a future state. The doctrine .may in fact be best 
described in the words attributed to its author:— "A previous 
action does not die; be it good or evil, it does not die; the 
society of the virtuous is not lost ; that which is done, that 
which is said, for the Ar3^as,* for these grateful persons, never 
dies. A good action well done, a bad action wickedly done, 
when they, have arrived at their maturity, equally bear an inev- 
itable fruit" (H. B. I., p. 98). 

Section V. — The Zend-Avesta, f 
Persia was once a great power in the world; the Persian 

* Aryas is a term comprehending the several classes of believers. 

t There is a complete trauslation of the Zend-Avesta by Spiegel. It con- 
tains useful introductory essays ; but in the present state of Zend scholar- 
ship the translation cannot be regarded as final. Dr. Haug, in a German 
treatise, has elucidated as well as translated a small, but very important, 
portion, of the Zend-Avesta, termed the five Gathas. The same scholar has 
also published a volume of Essays on the Parsee language and religion, 
which contains some translated passages, and may be consulted with advan- 
tage, though Dr. Haug's English stands in great need of revision. Burnouf 
has translated but g- very small part of the Zend-A.vesta, jn a work entitled 



ANTIQUITY OF THE ZEND-AVESTA. 483 

religion, a conquering and encroaching faith. The Persian 
Empire threatened to destroy the independence of Greece. It 
held the Jews in actual subjection, and its religious views pro- 
foundly influenced the development of theirs. Through the 
Jews, its ideas have penetrated the Christian world, and leavened 
Europe. It once possessed an extensive and remarkable sacred 
literature, but a few scattered fragments of which have descended 
to us. These fragments, recovered and first translated by An- 
quetil du Perron, have been but imperfectly elucidated as yet 
by European scholars; and there can be no doubt that much 
more light remains to be cast upon them by philology as it pro- 
gresses. Such as they are, however, I shall make use of the 
translations already before us to give my readers an imperfect, 
account of the character of the Parsee Scriptures. 

These compositions are the productions of several centuries 
and are widely separated from one another in the character of 
their thought, and in the objects of worship proposed to the 
faithful follower of Zarathustra. The oldest among them, 
which may belong to the time of the prophet himself, are con- 
sidered by Haug to be as ancient as B.C. 1200, while the young- 
est were very likely as recent as B.C. 500. 

Haug considers the Avesta to be the most ancient text, while 
the Zend was a kind of commentary upon this already sacred 
book. 

Taking the several portions of the Zend-Avesta in their chron- 
ological order (as far as this can be ascertained), we shall 
begin with the five Gathas, which are pronounced by their 
translator to be **by far the oldest, weightiest, and most impor- 
tant pieces of the Zend-Avesta " (F. G., xiii). Some portions of 
these venerable hymns are even attributed by him to Zarathus- 

"LeYacna." Unfortunately Dr. Haug and Dr. Spiegel— both very eminent 
Zend scholars— are entirely at variance as to the proper method of transla- 
ting these ancient documents; and pending the settlement of this question, 
any interpretation proposed must be regarded by the uniubtructed reader as 
uncertain. I cannot refrain from adding an expression of regret that Dr, 
Haug, to whose labors in the interpretation of these obscure fragments of 
antiquity we owe so much, should have so far forgotten himself as to fall foul 
of Dr Spiegel in a tone wholly unbecoming a scholar and inappropriate to 
the subject. It Is not by this kind of learned Billingsgate that the superiority 
of hia translation to that of his rival, as he evidently considers him, or his 
fellow-laborer as I should prefer to call him, can be established. 



484 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

tra himself; but this— except where the prophet is in some way 
named as the author — must be considered only as an individual 
opinion, which can carry no positive conviction to other minds 
until it is supported by stronger evidence than any at present 
accessible. Meantime, we may rest assured that we possess 
among these hymns some undoubted productions of the Zara- 
thustrian age. 

Subdivision I. — The Mve Gdthds. 

Proceeding to the individual Gathas, we find that the first, 
which begins with the 28th chapter of the Ta9na, bears the fol- 
lowing heading: "The revealed Thought, the revealed Word, 
the revealed Deed of the truthrul Zarathustra.— The immortal 
saints chanted the hymns."* 

The Gatha Ahunavaiti— such is its title — then proceeds:-— 

1. "Adoration to you, ye truthful hymns I 

3. ** I raise aloft my hands in devotion, and worship first all true 
works of the wise and holy Spirit, and the Understanding of the pious 
Disposition, in order to participate in this happiness. 

3. "I will draw near to you with a pious disposition, O Wise One! 
O Living One I with the request that you will grant me the mundane 
and the spiritual life. By truth are these possessions to be obtained, 
which he who is self -illuminated bestows on those who strive for them '* 
(F. G., vol. i. p. 24.— Ya9iia, xxviii. 1-3). 

The most important portion of this Gatha is the 30th chap- 
ter, because in it we have a vivid picture of the conflict in 
which the religion of Ahura-Mazda was born. Philological 
inquiry has rendered it clear beyond dispute, that Parseeism 
took its rise in a religious schism between two sections of the 
great Aryan race, at a period so remote that the occupation of 
Hindoostan by an offshoot of that race had not yet occurred. 
The common ancestors of Hindus and Persians still dwelt 
together in Central Asia, when the great Parsee Keformation 

* Thi-oughout the Gathas I follow Haug; and I need make no apology 
for neglecting Spiegel's translation, because that scholar himself admits, 
with creditable candor, that even his indefatigable perseverance was 
baffled by the difficulties of this portion of the Yacna.— Av., 2, xi. 



HYMN OF THE PAESEE KEFORMATION. 485 

disturbed their harmony ; the oue section adopting, or adhering 
to, the Vedic polytheism which they subsequently carried to 
India; the other embracing the more monotheistic creed which 
afterwards became the national religion of Persia. 

The following hymn of the reformers carries us into the very 
midst of the strife : — 

1. "I will now tell you who are assembled liere, the wise sayings of 
the most wise, the praises of the living God, and the songs of the good 
spirit, the sublime truth which I see arising out of these sacred flames. 

2. " You shall, therefore, hearken to the soul of nature (^. e., plough 
and cultivate the earth) ; * contemplate the beams of fire with a most 
pious mind! Every one, both men and women, ought to-day to choose 
his creed (between the Deva and the Ahura religion). Ye offspring of 
renowned ancestors, awake to agree with us {i, e., to approve of my lore, 
to be delivered to you at this moment) I " 

(The prophet begins to deliver the words, revealed to him 
through the sacred flames.) 

3. "In the beginning there was a pair of twins, two spirits, each of 
a peculiar activity ; these are the good and the base, in thought, word, 
and deed. Choose one of these two spirits 1 Be good, not basel 

4. " And these two spirits united created the first (material things); 
the one, the reality, the other, the non-reality. To the liars (the wor- 
shipers of the devas, i, e. , gods) existence will become bad, whilst the 
believer in the true god enjoys prosperity. 

6. "Of these two spirits you must choose one, either the evil, the 
originator of the worst actions, or the true holy spirit. Some may wish 
to have the hardest lot (i. e., those who will not leave the polytheistic 
deva-religion), others adore Ahuia-Mazda by means of sincere actions. 

6. "You cannot belong to both of them (^. e., you cannot be wor- 
shipers cf the one true God and of many gods at the same time). One 
of the devas, against whom we are fighting, might overtake you, when 
in deUberation (what faith you are to embrace), whispering you to 
choose the no-mind. Then the devas flock together to assault the two 



* The sentences enclosed in parentheses are Haue's explanations of the 
sense of the text. 



486 HOLY BOOKS. OE BIBLES. 

lives (the life of the body, and that of the soul), praised by the prophets** 
(Parsees, pp. 141, 142.— Yasna, 30). 

In another portion of this Gatha it is interesting to observe 
the spirit of religious zeal breaking out. as it so generally does, 
into the language of persecution : — 

xxxi. 18. **Do not listen to the sayings and precepts of the wicked 
(the evil spirit), because he has given to destruction house, village, dis- 
trict, and province. Therefore kill them (the wicked) with the sword! " 

The wicked, as appears from the context, are those who did 
not accept the Zarathustrian revelation. 

In the second Gatha, or Gatha Ustavaiti, there are some very 
curious x)assages. A few have been quoted in the notice of 
Zarathustra. The following verses indicate the nature of the 
worship addressed to Ahura-Mazda in the most ancient period 
of the Parsee religion: — 

xliii. 2. "I believe thee to be the best thing of all, the source of 
light for the world. Everybody shall choose thee (believe in thee) as 
the source of light, thee, thee, holiest spirit Mazda! Thou Greatest all 
good true things by means of the power of thy good mind at any time, 
and promisest us (who believe in thee) a long life. 

4. *'Iwill believe thee to be the powerful, holy (god) Mazda! For 
thou givest with thy hand, filled with helps, good to the pious man, as 
well as to the impious, by means of the warmth of the fire strengthening 
the good things. For this reason the vigor of the good mind has fallen 
to my lot. 

5. "Thus I believe in thee as the holy God, thou living Wise Onel 
Because I beheld thee to be the primeval cause of life in the creation. 
For thou hast made (instituted) holy customs and words, thou hast given 
a bad fortune (emptiness) to the base, and a good one to the good man. 
I will believe in thee, thou glorious God! in the last (future) period of 
creation " (Parsees. p. 149). 

xliv» 3. "That which [ shall ask thee, tell it me right, thou living 
God! Who was in the beginning the father and creator of truth? Who 
made the way for the sun and stars? Who causes the moon to increase 
and wane, if not thou? This I wish to know besides what I already 
know. 



PAKSEE HYMNS. 487 

4. " That I will ask thee, tell it me right, thou living Godl Who is 
holding the earth and the skies above it? Who made the waters and 
the trees of the field? Who is in the winds and storms that they so 
quickly run? Who is the creator of the good-minded beings, thou Wise 
One? 

5. ' ' That I will ask thee, tell it me right, thou living God 1 Who 
made the lights of good effect and the darkness? Who made the sleep 
of good effect and the activity? Who made morning, noon and night, 
always reminding the priest of his duties? " (Ibid., p. 150.) 

xlvi. 7. "Who is appointed protector of my property, Wise Onel 
when the wicked endeavor to hurt me? Who else, if not thy fire, and 
thy mind, through which thou hast created the existence (good beings), 
thou living God! Tell me the power Jiecessary for holding up the 
religion" (Ibid,, p. 156). 

The third Gatha is termed gP^nta-Mainyus. It begins with 
praise of Ahura-Mazda as the giver of the two forces of perfec- 
tion and immortality. From this holiest spirit proceeds all the 
good contained in the words uttered by the good mind. He is 
the father of all truth. Of such a spirit is he who created this 
earth with the fire resting in its lap. Ahura-Mazda placed the 
gift of fire in the sticks that are rubbed together by the duality 
of truth and piety. The following verse refers to Mazda's 
prophet, Zarathustra : — 

xlviii. 4. "He who created, by means of his wisdom, the good and 
the no-mind in thinking, words, and deeds, rewards his obedient fol- 
lowers with prosperity. Art thou (Mazda) not he in whom the last cause 
of both intellects (good and evil) is hiddenV (Parsees, p. 159). 

The concluding chapter of this Gatha is a hymn of praise 
supposed to emanate from the Spirit of Earth and to be ad- 
dressed to the highest genii. It is not without beauty and sub- 
limity, but I forbear to make quotations from it, as some of its 
most interesting verses are noticed elsewhere. 

The fourth and fifth Gatha are much shorter, and are con- 
sidered by Hciug as an appendix. The following verse may 
serve as a specimen of the former: — 

lii. 20. *' May you all together grant us this your help, truth through 



488 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

the good mind, and the good word in which piety consists. Be lauded 
and praised. The Wise One bestows happiness. 

21. " Has not the Holy One, the living wise one, created the radiant 
truth, and possession with the good mind by nieans of the wise sayings 
of Armaiti, by her actions and her faith? 

22. " The living Wise One knows what is always the best for me in 
the adoration of those who existed and still exist. These I will invoke 
with mention of their names, and I will approach them as their pane- 
gyrist" (F. a, vol. ii. p. 56). 

Of the first three verses of the fifth Gatha I have spoken 
above (p. 184). The fourth and fifth run thus : — 

liii. 4. '* I will zealously confess this your faith, which the blessed 
one destined to the landlord for the country people, to the truthful 
householder for the truthful people, ever extending the glory and the 
beauty of the good mind, which the living Wise One has bestowed on 
the good faith for ever and ever. 

5. "I proclaim formulae of blessing to girls about to be married: 
Attend 1 attend to them 1 You possess by means of those formulae the 
life of the good mind. Let one receive the other with upright heart; 
for thus only will you prosper" (F. G., vol. ii. p. 57). 

Subdivision 2.— Tacna 35-41, or the Yacna of seven chapters. 

The ya§na of seven chapters, which in the present arrange- 
ment of the text is inserted between the first and second 
Gathas, is of more recent date than the Gathas, but more 
ancient than the rest of the Zend-Avesta. "It appears to be 
the work of one of the earliest successors of the prophet, 
called in ancient times Zarathustra or Zarathustrotema, who, 
deviating somewhat from the high and pure monotheistic prin- 
ciples of gpitama, made some concessions to the adherents of 
the ante-Zoroastrian religion by addressing prayers to other 
beings than Ahura-Mazda " (Parsee, p. 219). The seven chapters 
may be most accurately described as Psalms of praise, in which 
a great variety of objects, spiritual and natural, receive a tribute 
of pious reverence from the worshiper. They are not, however, 
on that account to be considered as gods, or as in any way the 



OBJECTS OF PARSEE WORSHIP. 489 

equals of Ahura-Mazda, who is still supreme. The beings thus 
addressed are portions of the "good creation," or of the things 
created by the good power, Ahura-Mazda; and they are either 
subjects of his spiritual kingdom, such as the Amesha-9pentas 
(seven very important spirits), or they are simply portions of 
the material universe treated as semi-divine, and exalted to ob- 
jects of religious worship. Thus in the last chapter of this sec- 
tion, the author directs his laudations to the following, among 
other, genii and powers : the dwelling of the waters, the part- 
ing of the Ways, mountains, the wind, the earth, the pure ass 
in Lake Vouru-Kasha, this lake itself, the Soma, the flowing of 
the waters, the flying of the birds. It is plain from this enumer- 
ation that we are already a step beyond the simple adoration 
of Ahura-Mazda so conspicuous in the Gathas, and that the 
door is opened to the multitude of spirits and divinities that 
make their appearance in other parts of the Parsee ritual. 

This section of the Ya5na opens, however, with a striking 
address to Ahura-Mazda:*— 

XXXV. I. ** We worship Ahura-Mazda the pure, the master of purity. 
We worship the Amesha-Qpentas (the archangels), the possesors of good, 
the givers of good. We worship the whole creation of the true spirit, 
both the spiritual and terrestrial, all that supports (raises) the welfare of 
the good creation, and the spread of the good Mazdaya^na religion. 

2. ** We praise all good thoughts, all good words, all good deeds, 

* It is a satisfaction to find that Spiegel's translation does not differ so 
widely from Haug's after we leave the territory of the Gathas. As a speci- 
men. I Quote the following verses from his Avesta, vol. ii. p. 135, which the 
reader may compare with the English rendering of the same passage in the 
text:— 

Tacna Haptaghati. 

XXXV I. 

1. *'(Racpi). Den Ahura-Mazda. den reinen Herrn des Reinen, prelsen 
wir. Die Ameshc-cpenta, die guten Herrseher, die weisen, preisen wir. 2. 
Die ganze Welt des Reinen preisen wir, die hlmmlische wie die irdische. 3. 
mit Verlangen naeh der guten Reinheit, mit Verlangen nach dem guten maz- 
dayaenischen Gesetze. 4. (Zuota.) Der guten Gedanken, Worte und Werke, 
die hier und andersvvo 5. gethan worden sind odor noch' gethan werden, 6. 
Lobpreiser und Verbreiter sind wir, damit wir zu den Guten gehoren mogen. 
7. Das glauben wir, Ahura-Mazda, Reiner. Schoner. 8. Das wollen wir 
denken, sagen und thun: 9. was das Ceste ist unter dea Handlungen der 
Menschen fur beide Welten. 10. Durch diese Ttiaten nun erbitten wir. dass 
fur das Vieh 11. Annehmlichkeit und Futter gespendet werden moge 12. den 
GeleLrten wie den Ungelehrten, den Machtigen wieden Unmachtigen." 



490 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

which are and will be (which are being done and which have been done) 
and we likewise keep clean and pure all that is good. 

3. "O Ahura-Mazda, thou true happy being! we strive to think, 
to speak, and to do only those of all actions which might be best 
fitted to promote the two lives (that of the body and of the soul). 

4. "We beseech the spirit of earth by means of these best works 
(agriculture) to grant us beautiful and fertile fields, to the believer as 
well as to the unbeliever, to him who has riches as well as to him 
who has no possession " (Parsees, p. 163). 

The following invocation of fire deserves to be mentioned 
before we quit this portion of the Ya9na:— 

xxxvi. 4. ** Happy is the man to whom thou comest in power, O 
Fire, Son of Ahura-Mazda. 

5. " Friendlier than the friendliest, more deserving of adoration 
than the most adorable. 

6. "Mayest thou come to us helpfully to the greatest of transac- 
tions. . . . 

9. " O Fire, Bon of Ahura-Mazda, we approach thee 

10. "with a good spirit, with good purity " (Av., ii. 137). 

Subdivision 3. — Tacna, Chapter XII. 

This chapter is stated by Haug to be written in the Gatha 
dialect; it is therefore extremely ancient, and as it contains the 
Confession of Faith made by Zarathustrian converts on their 
abandonment of idolatry, or worship of the Devas, it is of suf- 
ficient importance to be quoted at length : — 

xii. 1. " I cease to be a Deva io^rs/i2*pgr. T prof ess to be a Zoroastrian 
Mazdayagna (worhiper of Ahura-Mazda), an enemy of the Devas, and a 
devotee to Ahura, a praiser of the immortal saints (Amesha-gpentas), a 
worshiper of the immortal saints. I ascribe all good things to Ahura- 
Mazda, who is good, and has good, who is true, lucid, shining, who is 
the originator of all the best things, of the spirit in nature (gtus), of the 
growth in nature, of the luminaries and the self -shining brightness which 
is in the luminai4es. 

3. "I choose (follow, profess) the holy Armaiti, the good; may she be 
mine ! I abominate all fraud and injury committed on the spirit of 



A PABSEE CONFESSION OF FAITH. 491 

earth, and all damage and destruction of the quarters of the Mazda^- 
a9nas. 

3. ** I allow the good spirits who reside on this earth in the good ani- 
mals (as cows, sheep, &c.), to go and roam about free according to their 
pleasure. I praise, besides, all that is offered with prayer to promote 
the growth of life. I shall cause neither damage nor destruction to the 
quarters of the Mazdaya9nas, neither with my body nor my soul. 

4. ''I forsake the Devas, the wicked, bad, false, untrue, the origina- 
tors of mischief, who are most baneful, destructive, the basest of all 
beings. I forsake the Devas and those who are Devas-like, the witches 
and their like, and any being whatever of such a kind. I forsake them 
with thoughts, words and deeds : I forsake them hereby publicly, and 
declare that every lie and falsehood is to be done away with. 

5. 6. " In the same way as Zarathustra at the time when Ahura-Mazda 
was holding conversations and meetings with him, and both were con- 
versing with each other, forsook the Devas; so do I forsake the Devas, 
as the holy Zarathustra did. 

7. "To that party to which the waters belong, to whatever party the 
trees, and the animating spirit of nature, to that party to which Ahura- 

. Mazda belongs, who has created this spirit and the pure man; to that 
party of which Zarathustra, and KavS Vist^9pa and Frashaostra and 
Jam^9pa were, of that party of which all the ancient fire-priests (Sosh- 
yanto) were, the pious, who were spreading the truth: of the same party 
and creed am I. 

8. " I am a Mazdaya9na, a Zoroastrian Mazdaya9na. I profess this 
religion by praising and preferring it to others (the Deva religion). I 
praise the thought which is good, I praise the word which is good, I 
praise the work which is good. 

9. "I praise the Mazdaya9na religion, and the pure brotherhood 
which it establishes and defends against enemies, the Zoroastrian Ahura 
religion, which is the greatest, best, and most prosperous of all that are, 
and that will be. I ascribe all good to Ahura-Mazda. This shall be 
the praise (profession) of the Mazdaya9na religion." 

Subdivision 4. — The Younger Yacna, and Vispered, 

While the Gathas and the confession just quoted represent 
the most ancient phase of the Mazdaya9na faith, we enter, in 



492 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

the remaining portion of the ya9na, on a much later stage of 
the growing creed. So many new divinities, or at any rate, 
objects of reverential addresses, now enter upon the scene, that 
we almost lose sight of Ahura-Mazda in the throng of his at- 
tendants. We seem to be some ages away from the days when 
Zarathustra bade his hearers choose between the one true God 
and the multitude of false gods worshiped by his enemies. 
Ahura-Mazda is safely enthroned, and Zarathustra shines out 
gloriously as his prophet ; but Zarathustra's creed is overloaded 
with elements of which he himself knew nothing. The first 
chapter of the Ya9ua, a liturgical prayer, brings these elements 
conspicuously before us. It is an invocation and celebration of 
a great variety of powers belonging to what is termed the good 
creation, or the world of virtuous beings and good things, as 
opposed to the malicious beings and bad things who form the 
realm of evil.* Thus it opens: — 

"I invoke and I celebrate the creator Ahura-Mazda, luminous, 
resplendent, very great and very good, very perfect and very energetic, 
very intelligent and very beautiful, eminent in purity, who possesses the 
excellent knowledge, the source of pleasure; him who has created us, 
who has formed us, who has nourished us, the most accomplished of 
intelligent beings, "f 

Every verse, until we approach the end^ commences with the 
same formula: — *'! invoke and I celebrate;" or, as Spiegel 
translates it, *'I invite and announce it;" the sole difference is 
in the beings invoked. Many of these are powers of more or 
less eminence in the Parsee spiritual hierarchy, but it would be 
going beyond our object here to enumerate their names and spec- 
ify their attributes, To a large proportion of them the epithets 
"pure, lord of purity," are added, while some are dignified with 

♦ I follow Burnouf s translation, because the strict accuracy of his 
method is acknowledged by both Haug and Spiegel. There are consider- 
able differences in the text followed by Burnouf and Spiegel, which I need 
not weary the reader by particularizing in detail. 

t Y., p. 146.— Cf. Spiegel: 1. "Ich lade ein und thue es kund: dem 
Schopfer Ahura-Mazda, dem glanzenden, majestatisehen, grossten, besten 
schonstcn, 2. dem starksten, veretandigsten, mit bestem Korper versehenen, 
durch Heiligkeit hochsten. 3. Der sehr weise ist, der weithin erfreut.4. 
welcher ans schuf, welcher uns bildete, weleher uns erhielt, der Heiligste 
unter den Himmelischen."- Av.. ii. 35. 



LATER PARSEE WORSHIP. 493 

more special titles of honor. After the above homage to Ahura- 
Mazda, the writer invokes and celebrates, among others : Mithra 
(a very famous god), who increases oxen, who has one thousand 
ears, and ten thousand eyes; the fire of Ahura-Mazda; the 
water given by Ahura-Mazda ; the Fravashis (angels or guardian 
spirits) of holy men and of women who are under men's pro- 
tection; energy, with a good constitution and an imposing fig- 
ure; victory given by Ahura; the months; the new moon; the 
full moon; the time of fecundation; the years; all the lords of 
purity, and thirty-three genii surrounding Havani, who are of 
admirable purity, whom Mazda has made known, and Zarathus- 
tra has proclaimed; the stars, especially a star named Tistrya; 
the moon, which contains the germ of the ox ; the sun, the eye 
of Ahura-Mazda; the trees given by Mazda; the Word made 
known by Zarathustra against the Devas ; the excellent law of 
the Mazdaya9nas; the perfect benediction; the pure and excel- 
lent man ; these countries and districts ; pastures and houses ; 
the earth, the sky, the wind; the great lord of purity; days, 
months, and seasons ; the Fravashis of the men of ancient law ; 
those of contemporaries and relations, and his own ; all genii 
who ought to be invoked and adored. It is manifest from this 
invocation, in which I have omitted many names and many 
repetitions, how far we are from the stern and earnest simplic- 
ity of the Gathas. Kegular liturgical forms have sprung up, and 
these express the more developed and complicated worship which 
the Parsee priesthood has now engrafted on the Zarathustrian 
monotheism. 

The concluding verses run as follows: — 

** O thou who art given in this world, given against the Deves, Zar- 
athustra * the pure, lord of purity, if I have wounded thee, either in 
thought, word, or deed, voluntarily or involuntarily, I again address 
this praise in thine honor; yes, I invoke thee if I have failed against 
thee in this sacrifice and this invocation. 

"O all ye very great lords, pure, masters of purity, if I have 
wounded you, &c. [as above]. 

"May I, a worshiper of Mazda, an adherent of Zarathustra, an 
enemy of the Devas, an observer of the precepts of Ahura, address my 

• No mention of Zarathustra here in Spiegel.— Av. 11. 44. 



494 HOLY BOOKS. OB BIBLES. 

homage to him who is given here, given against the Devas; to Zarathus- 
tra, pure, lord of purity, for the sacrifice, for the invocation, for the 
prayer that renders favorable, for the benediction. (May I address my 
homage) to the lords (who are) the days, the parts of days, &c., for the 
benediction; that is to say: (may I address my homage) to the lords (who 
are) the days, the parts of days, the months, the seasons of the year 
(Gahanb^rs), the years; for the sacrifice, for the invocation, for the 
prayer that renders favorable, for the benediction."* 

The rest of the Ya5na consists mainly of praises or prayers 
addressed to the very numerous objects of Parsee adoration, 
and most of it is of little interest. The following short section 
however, deserves remark :— 

Yacna 12. 

1. " I praise the thoughts rightly thought, the words rightly spoken, 
and the deeds rightly done. 

2. **I seize upon (or resort to) all good thoughts, words and deeds. 

3. '* I forsake all bad thoughts, words, and deeds. 

4. *• I bring you, O Amesha-^pentas, 

5. ** Praise and adoration, 

6. "With thoughts, words, and deeds, with heavenly mind, the 
vital force from my own body."f 

In the following verses again there is some excellence :— 

1. "May that man attain that which is best who teaches us the right 
way to our profit in this world, both the material and the spiritual 
world, the plain way that leads to the worlds where Ahura is enthroned, 
and the sacrificer, resembling thee, a sage, a saint, O Mazda. 

2. " May there come to this dwelling contentment, blessing, fidelity, 
and the wisdom of the pure." 

8. "In this dwelling may Qraosha^ (obedience) put an end to dis- 
obedience, peace to strife, liberality to avarice, wisdom to error, truth- 
ful speech to lying, which detests purity " (Av. ii. 186, 187. — Ya^na 59). 

* Y. rp. 585, 588, 592, The Concluding stanza is simpler and more intelli- 
gible in Spiegel.— Av., ii. 44. 

t Av., vol. ii. p. 85.— Yacna, 12. The ch. xii. quoted above is No. 13^ In 
Spiegel, 

t Craosha is an important) divinity in Parsee worship, who is considered 
by Spiegel to express the moral quality of obedience. 



PARSEE FIRE WORSHIP. 495 

The prominent position occupied by fire in the Parsee faith 
is well known. The presence of fire is indeed an essential part 
of their ritual, in which it is treated with no less honor than 
the consecrated wafer in that of Catholic Christians. Not only, 
however, is it employed in their rites, but it is addressed as an 
independent being, to whom worship is due. Not that its place 
in the hierarchy is to be confounded with that of Ahura-Mazda. 
It is not put upon a level with the supreme being, but it is ad- 
dressed as his son, its rank being thus still more closely assim- ■ 
ilated to that of the host, which is in like manner a part of the 
liturgical machinery and an embodiment of the son of God. A 
special chapter of the Ya9na — the 61st — is devoted to Fire, and 
a summary of its contents will help us to understand the light 
in which this deity was regarded. 

The sacrificer begins by vowing offerings and praise and 
good nourishment to "Fire, son of Ahura-Mazda." He trusts 
that Fire may ever be provided with a proper supply of wood, 
and may always burn brightly in this dwelling, even till the 
final resurrection. He beseeches Fire to give him much prop- 
erty, much distinction, holiness, a ready tongue, wit and under- 
standing, activity, sleeplessness, and posterity. Fire is said to 
await nourishment from all; whoever comes, he looks at his 
hands, saying: "What does the friend bring his friend, the 
coming one to him who sits alone?" And this is the blessing 
he bestows on him who brings him dry wood, picked out for 
burning: "Mayest thou be surrounded with herds of cattle, 
with abundance of men. May it be with thee according to the 
desire of thy heart, according to the desire of thy soul. Be 
joyous, live thy life the whole time that thou shalt live."* 

The last chapter but one of the Ya9na is a hymn in universal 
praise of the good creation. All the objects belonging to that 
creation — that is, made by Ahura-Mazda, and standing in con- 
trast with the bad creation of Agra-Mainyus — are enumerated, 
and as a catalogue of these the hymn is interesting. Ahura- 
Mazda himself is named first; then Zarathustra; after this fol- 
lows the Fravashi (angel) of Zarathustra, the Amesha-9pentas, 
the Fravishis of the pure, and so forth, through a long list of 

• Av., vol. ii. p. 191.— Yacna, 61. This blessing is repeated, Khorda- 
Avesta, 11. 



496 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

animate and inanimate beings. Each is named with the form- 
ula '*we praise" following the title, as: "The whole earth we 
praise" (Av., vol. ii. p. 202.— Ya9na, 70). 

So close is the resemblance between the Vispered and that 
portion of the Ya9na which we have just examined, that it will 
be needless to dwell upon the contents of the former. We may 
therefore at once pass on to a very important section, for theo- 
logical purposes, of the Zend-Avesta, namely — 



Subdivision 5. — Vendidad. 

Totally unlike either the Ya9na, the Vispered, or the Tashts, 
the Vendidad is a legislative code — dealing indeed largely with 
religious questions, but not confining itself exclusively to them. 
It differs from the remainder of the sacred volume much as 
Leviticus differs from the Psalms, or as the Institutes of Menu 
differ from the hymns of the Eig-Veda. It is regarded as 
equally holy with the rest of the Avesta, and is recited in 
divine service along with Vispered and Yagna, the three to- 
gether forming what is termed the Vendidad-Sade (Av., ii. Ixxv). 
Its abrupt termination indicates that the code is not before us 
in its entirety; the portion which has been preserved, however, 
does not appear to have suffered great mutilation. Let us 
briefly summarize its contents, first premising that the form 
they assume (with trifling exceptions) is that of conversations 
between Ahura-Mazda and his prophet. 

The first Fargard (or chapter) is an enumeration of the good 
countries or places created by Ahura-Mazda, and of the evils — 
such' as the serpent, the wasp, and various moral offenses, 
including that of doubt — created in opposition to him in each 
case by the president of the bad creation, Agra-Mainyus. The 
second Fargard is a long narrative of the proceedings of a 
mythological hero named Yima (the Indian Yama), to whom 
Ahura-Mazda is stated to have once committed the government 
of the world, or of some part of it. Thus far we have not 
entered on the proper subject-matter of the Vendidad. The 
third Fargard, while still introductory, approaches more nearly 
to the subsequent chapters, alike in its form and its contents. 



PABSEE REGARD FOR AGRICULTURE. 497 

In it Zarathustra lays certain queries before Ahura-Mazda, and 
the replies given by that deity are of high importance for the 
comprehension of both the social and moral status of the 
Parsees at the time when this dialogue was written. The stress 
laid upon the virtue of cultivating the soil is especially to be 
noticed. Similar sentiments are frequently repeated in the 
Vendidad, and indicate a people among whom agriculture was 
still in its infancy, the transition from the pastoral state to the 
more settled condition of tillers of the soil being still incom- 
plete. The compilers of this code evidently felt strongly the 
extreme value to their youthful community of agricultural 
pursuits, and therefore encouraged them at every convenient 
opportunity by representing them as peculiarly meritorious in 
the sight of God. 

Zarathustra begins his inquiries by asking what is in the 
first place most agreeable to this earth, and successively ascer- 
tains what are the five things which give it most satisfaction, 
and what the five which cause it the most displeasure, 
Ahura-Mazda answers that, in the first place, a holy man 
with objects of sacrifice is the most agreeable; then a holy man 
making his dwelling-place, and storing it with all that pertains 
to a happy and righteous life; then the production of grain and 
of fruit trees, the irrigation of thirsty land, or the drainage of 
moist land; fourthly, the breeding of live-stock and draught- 
cattle: fifthly, a special incident connected with the presence 
of such animals on the land. The five displeasing things are, 
the meetings of Daevas and Drujus (evil spirits), the interment 
of men or dogs (which was contrary to the law), the accu-mula- 
' tion of Dakhmas, or places where the bodies of the dead were 
left exposed, the dens of animals made by Agre-Mainyus,aod 
lastly, unbecoming conduct on the part of the wife or son of a 
holy man. Further questions are then put as to the mode of 
conduct which wins the approbation of the earth, and it is 
stated to consist in actions which tend to counteract the evils 
above enumerated. In the course of these replies occasion is 
again taken to eulogize the man who vigorously cultivates the 
soil, and to censure him who idly leaves it uncultivated. Cer- 
tain penalties are then imposed on those who bury dogs or 
men, but the sin of leaving them underground for two years is 



498 HOLY BOOKS. OH BIBLES. 

declared to be inexpiable, except by the Mazdayagna Law, 
which can purify the worst offenders:— 

" For it (the Law) will take away these (sins) from those who praise 
the MazdayaQna Law, if they do not again commit wicked actions. For 
this the Mazdayagna Law, O holy Zarathnstra, takes away the bonds of 
the man who praises it. It takes away deceit. It takes away the murder 
of a pure man. It takes away the burial of the dead. It takes away in- 
expiable actions. It takes away accumulated guilt. It takes away all 
sins which men commit" (Av., vol. i. p. 87, 88.— Vendidad, iii. 140-148). 

We see from this that the power of the Law to deliver sin- 
ners from the burden of their offenses was in no way inferior 
to that of the Atonement of Christ. 

It is unnecessary to dwell upon the fourth Fargard, which 
deals with the penalties— consisting mainly of corporarpunish- 
ment — for breach of contract and other offenses. The fifth and 
sixth, being concerned with the regulations to be observed in 
case of impurity arising from the presence of dead bodies, are of 
little interest. A large part of the seventh is occupied with the 
same subjects, but its course is interrupted by certain precau- 
tions to be attended to in the graduation of students of medi- 
cine, which may be commended to the notice of other religious 
communities. Should a Mazdaya9na desire to become a physi- 
cian, on whom, inquires Zarathustra, shall he first try bis hand, 
the Mazdaya9na (orthodox Parsees), or the Daevaya9nas (adher- 
ents of a false creed)? Ahura-Mazda replies that the Daevaya9- 
nas are to be his first patients. If he has performed three sur- 
gical operations on these heretics, and his three patients have 
died, he is to be held unfit for the medical profession, and 
must on no account presume to operate on the adherents of the 
Law. If, however, he is successful with the Daevaya9nas, he is 
to receive his degree, and may proceed to practice on the more 
valuable bodies of faithful Parsees. So careful a contrivance to 
ensure that none but infidels shall fall victims to the knife of 
the uns"kilful surgeon evinces no little ingenuity. 

The eighth Fargard relates chiefly to the treatment of dead 
bodies, while the ninth proceeds to narrate the rites for the pur- 
ification of those who have come in contact with them. A terri- 



PABSEE RESPECT FOR THE DOG. 499 

ble penalty— that of decapitation — is enacted against the man 
who ventures to perform this rite without having learnt the 
law from a priest competent to purify. The tenth Fargard pre- 
scribed the prayers by which the Drukhs, or impure spirit sup- 
posed to attach Itself to corpses, and to come from them upon 
the living, is to be driven away: and the subject is continued 
in the eleventh, which contains formularies for the purification of 
dwellings, fires, and other objects. Along with injunctions as to 
the purification of houses where a death has occurred, the 
twelfth Fargard informs its hearers how many pra3'ers they 
are to offer up for deceased relatives. The number varies both 
according to their relationship, being highest for those that are 
nearest akin, and according to their purity or sinfulness, double 
as many being required for the sinful as for the pure. After a 
short introduction expounding the merit of killing a certain 
species of animal and the demerit of killing another (what they 
are is uncertain), the thirteenth Fargard proceeds to enumerate 
in detail the various kinds of offenses against dogs, and the cor- 
responding penalties. Dogs were evidently of the utmost im- 
portance to the community, and their persons are guarded with 
scarcely less care than those of human beings. They are held 
to have souls, which migrate aiter their decease to a canine 
Paradise. It seems, too, that shades of departed dogs are 
appointed to watch the dangerous bridge over which men's 
souls must travel on the road to felicity, and which the wicked 
cannot pass; for we are informed of the soul of a man who has 
killed a watch-dog, that "the deceased dogs who guard against 
crime and watch the bridge do not make friends with it on 
-account of its abominable and horrible nature " (Av., vol. i. p. 
192.— Vendidad, xiii, 25); while a man who has killed a water- 
dog is required to make "offerings for its pious soul for three 
days and three nights" (Av., vol. i. p. 201.— Vendidad, xiii. 173). 
The place to which the souls of these animals repair is termed 
"the water-dwelling," and it is stated that two water-dogs 
meet them on their arrival, apparently to welcome them to 
I heir aqueous heaven (Av,, vol. i. p. 200.— Vendidad, xiii. 167)'. Not 
only killing dogs, but wounding them or giving them bad food, 
are crimes to be severely punished; and even in case of mad- 
ness the dog's life is on no account to be taken. On the con- 



500 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

trary, the utmost care is to be taken, by fastening him so as to 
prevent escape, that he should do himself no injury, for if he 
should happen in his madness to fall into water and die, the 
community will have incurred sin by the accident.* The follow- 
ing verses convey an interesting notion of the esteem in which 
the dog was held among the early Parsees. The speaker is 
Ahura-Mazda :— 

'*Ihave created the dog, O Zarathustra, with his own clothes and 
his own shoes ; with a sharp nose and sharp teeth ; attached to mankind, 
for the protection of the herds. Then I created the dog, even I Ahura- 
Mazda, with a body capable of biting enemies. When he is in good 
health, when he is with the herds, when he is in good voice, O holy Zara- 
thustra, there comes not to his village either thief or wolf to carry off 
property unperceived from the villages " (Av., vol. i. p. 197.— Vendidad, 
xiii. 106-118). 

In the fourteenth Fargard, water-dogs are further protected 
against wounds ; while in the fifteenth, the preservation of the 
canine species at large is ensured by elaborate enactments. To 
give a dog bones which he cannot gnaw, or food so hot as to 
burn its tongue, is a sin ; to frighten a bitch in pup, as by clap- 
ping the hands, is likewise to incur guilt ; and they are gravely 
criminal who suffer puppies to die from inattention. If born in 
camel-stalls, stables, or any such places, it is incumbent on the 
proprietor to take charge of them; or, if the litter should be 
at large, at least the nearest inhabitant is bound to become 
their protector. Strangely intermingled with these precautions 
are rules prohibiting cohabitation with women in certain phys- 
ical conditions, and enactments for the prevention of abortion, 
and for ensuring the support of a pregnant girl by her seducer, 
at least until her child is born. The crime of abortion is 
described in a manner which curiously reveals the practices 
occasionally resorted to by Parsee maidens. Should a single 
woman be with child, and say, '*The child was begotten by 
such and such a man "— 

* There is, indeed, a passage which permits the mutilation of a mad dog 
by cutting off an ear, or a foot, or the tail; Spiegel, however, regards it 
as interpolated, and it is palpably at variance with the remainder of the 
chapter. 



PABSEE RESPECT FOR CLEANLINESS. 501 

**If tlien this man says, ' Try to make friends with an old woman 
and inquire of her; if then this girl does not make friends with an old 
woman, and inquire of her, and this old woman brings Baga, or Shasta, 
or Ghn^na, or Fracp^ta, or any of the vegetable purgatives, saying, * Try 
to kill this child;' if then the girl does try to kill the child, then the 
girl, the man, and the old woman are equally criminal." 

Neither the sixteenth nor the seventeenth Fargard need de- 
tain us. They relate, the one to the above-mentioned rules to 
be observed towards women, the other to the disposal of the 
hair and nails, which are held to pollute the earth. The eigh- 
teenth Fargard begins, as if in the middle of a conversation, with 
an address by Ahura-Mazda, on the ^characteristics of true and 
false priests, some, it appears, having improperly pretended to 
the priesthood. After some questions on other points of doc- 
trine put by Zarathustra, we are suddenly introduced to a con- 
versation between the angel ^raosha and the Drukhs, or evil 
spirit, in which the latter describes the several offenses that 
cause her to become pregnant, or, in other words, increase her 
influence in the world. After this interlude, we return to Ahura- 
Mazda and Zarathustra. The prophet, having been exhorted to 
put questions, inquires of his god who causes him the greatest 
annoyance. Ahura-Mazda replies that it is "he who mingles 
the seed of the pious and the impious, of Daeva-worshipers 
and of those who do not worship the Daevas, of sinners and 
non-sinners." Such persons are "mther to be killed than pois- 
onous snakes." Hereupon Zarathustra proceeds to ascertain 
what are the penalties for those who cohabit with women at 
seasons when the law requires them to be separate. At the 
beginning of the nineteenth Fargard, we have an account of 
the temptation of the prophet by the evil one, to which allusion 
has been made in another place. Zarathustra seeks for infor- 
mation as to the means of getting rid of impurities, and is 
taught by Ahura-Mazda to praise the objects he has created. In 
the latter part of the chapter we have a remarkable account of 
the judgment of departed souls. In conclusion, we have a 
psalm of praise recited by the prophet in honor of God, the 
earth, the stars, the Gathas, and numerous other portions of 
the good creation. There is little in the twentieth Fargard be- 



502 HOLY BOOKS. OE BIBLES. 

yond the information that Thrita was the .first physician, and a 
formula of conjuration, apparently intended to be used in order 
to drive away diseases. In the twenty-first, we find praises of 
the cloud, the sun, and other heavenly bodies. The last Far- 
gard of the Yendidad differs widely from the rest in its man- 
ner of representing Ahura-Mazda. It is, no doubt, as Spiegel 
observes, of late origin. Ahura-Mazda complains of the oppo- 
sition he has encountered from Agra-Mainyus, who has afflicted 
him with illness (whether in his own person, or in that of 
mankind, is not clear). He calls upon Manthra-^penta, the 
Word, to heal him, but that spirit declines, and a messenger is 
accordingly sent to Airyama to summon him to the task.* 
Airyama commences his preparations on an extensive scale, but 
at this point the Vendidad breaks off, and we are left in doubt 
as to the result of his efforts. 

Subdivision 6. — The Khorda-Avesta, with the Soma Yasht. 

The term Khorda-Avesta, or little Avesta, is applied, accord- 
ing to Spiegel, to that part of the Zend-Avesta which includes 
the Yashts, and certain prayers, some of them of extreme sanc- 
tity, and constantly employed in Parsee worship. He informs 
as that, while the remainder of the sacred texts serve more 
especially for priestly study and for public reading, the Khorda- 
Avesta is mainly used in private devotion (Av,, vol. iii. p. 1). 
Some of its prayers belong to a comparatively recent periods 
being composed no longer in the Zend language, but in a 
younger dialect; and we meet in them with the Persian forms 
of the old names — Ormazd standing for Ahura-Mazda, Ahriman 
for Agra-Mainyus, and Zerdoscht for Zarathustra. The names 
of the genii have undergone corresponding alterations. We find 
ourselves in these prayers, and indeed throughout the Yashts, 
many centuries removed from the age of Zarathustra and his 
immediate followers. Some of the more celebrated prayers, 
however (not belonging to the class of Yashts), must be of con- 
siderable antiquity, if we may judge from' the fact of their being 
mentioned in the Ya9na. Thus, in the 19th chapter of the 

* Spiegel holds that Airyama is only a certain prayer hypostatized.— Of. 
Av., vol. iii. p. 34. 



PBAYERS TO PARTICULAR DEITIES. 503 

Yayna, we find an elaborate exaltation of the powers of the 
Ahuna-Vairya, which stands second in the Khorda-Avesta. 
Zarathustra is represented as asking Ahura-Mazda, ** What was 
the speech which thou spokest to me, as existing before the 
sky, before the water, before the earth, before the ox, before 
the trees, before the fire, son of Ahura-Mazda, before the pure 
men, before the Daevas with perverted minds, and before men, 
before the whole corporeal world, before all things created by 
Mazda which have a pure origin? " This speech, existing prior 
to all created objects, is declared to have been a part of the 
Ahuna-Vairya. The immense benefits of repeating this prayer, 
which is stated to ensure salvation, are then recounted to the 
prophet. The 20th chapter is occupied with the merits of an- 
other of these short formularies, the Ashem-vohu. These pray- 
ers are in continual use, not only in the liturgy, but among the 
laity. They are sometimes required to recite great numbers of 
Ahuna-Yairyas at one time, and at the commencement of sow- 
ing, or of any good work, it is proper to repeat it. The Ashem- 
vohti is to be said on various occasions, particularly on waking 
and before going to sleep (Av., vol. ii. pp. Ixxxii., Ixxxiii). The 
higher sanctity, as well as greater antiquity, of these prayers is 
evinced by the fact that we find them constantly introduced in 
the course of others, to which they form a necessary supple- 
ment. There are often several Ashem-vohus in a single brief 
prayer. The Ashem-vohu, in fact, fulfills a function much like 
that of the Lord's prayer in the liturgies of some Christian 
Churches. 

Let us now see what these most sacred forms of adoration 
contain. The Ashem-Vohti is to this effect: — 

" Purity is the best possession. 
Hail, hail to him : 
Namely, to the pure man best in purity "* 

It is strange that, in a formulary occupying so conspicuous 
a place in Parsee devotion, there should be no acknowledg- 
ment of God. But this want is supplied in the Ahuna-Vairya, 
or Yatha-ahu-vairyo, which follows it. 

41 Av., vol. iii. p. 3, — Khorda-Avestft, 1. 



504 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

Tathd-ah^-vairyo : — 

" As it is the Lord's will, so (is he) the ruler from purity. 

(We shall receive) gifts from Vohu-mano for the works (we do) in the 
world for Mazda. ^ 

And (he gives) the kingdom to Ahura who protects the poor" (Av., 
vol. iii.— Khorda-Avesta, 2). 

Certainly this is not very intelligible, but the last clause is 
remarkable, as implying that the way to advance God's kingdom 
on earth is to confer benefits on the poor. 

Passing over a number of other prayers, we enter upon the 
Yashts, which are distinguished from all other parts of the 
Avesta by the fact that each of them is written in celebration 
of some particular god or genius. Ahura-Mazda, indeed, still 
retains his supremacy, and every Yasht begins with a formula, 
of which the first words are ''In the name -of the God Oj-mazd," 
while the first Yasht is devoted exclusively to his praise. Sub- 
ject to this recognition, however, the inferior potentates are 
each in turn the object of panegyrics in that exaggerated 
style in which Oriental literature delights. We need not 
stop to recount the particular honors rendered to each. One 
Yasht, however, is sufficiently curious to merit our attention, 
the more so as we possess a translation of it by Burnouf.* Tt is 
termed the Homa Yasht, and is intended to extol the brilliant 
qualities of the god whose name it bears. At that period of the 
day which is termed Havani — so it begins — Homa came to 
find Zarathustra, who was cleaning his fire, and singing the 
Gathas. " Zarathustra asked him: *What man art thou who in 
all the existing world appearest to my sight as the most per- 
fect, with thy beautiful and immortal person ? ' Then Homa, 
the holy one, who banishes death, answered me: 'I am, O 
Zarathustra, Homa, the holy one, who banishes death. In- 
voke, O Qpitama,* extract me to eat me, praise me to cele- 

* In the "Journal Asiatique." 4me Serie. torn. 4, 5, 6,7. 8. I have fol- 
lowed it exclusively. The Homa Yasht is not formally included in the Khor- 
da-Avesta; it forms the 9th chapter of the Yacna. But the fact that, while 
utterly alien to the rest of the Yacna, it is truly a Yasht— being in honor of a 
special personage— induced me to defer its consideration till now, 

♦ The term Cpitama, usually coupled with the name of Zarathustra, is 
translated by Spiegel '* holy," but is treated by Haug and Burnouf as a proper 
name. There are indications that it may have been the family name of tho 
prophet. See Av.. vol. iii. p. 209, w. 



PRAYERS TO HOMA. 505 

brate me, in order that others, who desire their good, may 
praise me in their turn.' Then Zarathustra said: 'Adoration to 
Homa ! Who is the mortal, Homa, who first in the present 
world extracted thee for sacrifice? What holiness did he ac- 
quire ? What advantage accrued to him thereby?" Homa 
replies that Vivanghat was the first to extract him for sacrifice, 
and that he acquired the advantage of becoming father to tho 
glorious Yima, in whose reign "there was neither cold nor 
(excessive) heat, nor old age nor death, nor envy produced by 
the Deva. Fathers and sons alike had the figure of men of fif- 
teen years of age, as long as Yima reigned." Similar questions 
are then put by Zarathustra regarding the second, third, and 
fourth mortals who worshiped Homa, and similar replies are 
given. All had distinguished sons; but the last, Puiuchaspa, 
was rewarded beyond all others by the birth of Zarathustra 
himself. Homa thereupon magnifies Zarathustra in the usual 
style of the later parts of the Zend-Avesta, and Zarathustra, 
who is not to be outdone in the language of compliment, thus 
addresses bim in return : " Adoration to Homa! Homa, the good, 
has been well made; he has been made just; made good; he 
bestows health; he has a beautiful person; he does good; he is 
victorious; of the color of gold ; bis branches are inclined to be 
eaten; he is excellent; and he is the most celestial way for the 
soul. O thou who art of the color of gold, I ask thee for pru- 
dence, energy, victory, beauty, the force that penetrates the 
whole body, greatness which is spread over the whole figure;" 
and so forth, through several other by no means modest peti- 
tions. In a more formal manner Zarathustra then demands of 
Homa the following favors: 1st, the excellent abode of the 
saints; 2dly, the duration of his body; 3dly, a long life; 4thly, 
and 5thly, to be able to annihilate hatred and strike down the 
cruel man; 6thly, that they (the faithful?) may see robbers, 
assassins, and wolves before being seen by them. After this, 
Homa is praised generally. He gives many good gifts, among 
them posterity to sterile mothers, and husbands to spinsters of 
advanced years. He is finally requested, if there should be in 
the village or the province a man who is hurtful to others, to 
take from him the power of walking, to darken his intelligence, 
and to break his heart (For another Yasht, see eh. i), 



506 HOLY BOOKS. OE BIBLES.. 

The Yashts are succeeded by various pieces, of which one 
relates to Parsee eschatology, and the others, celebrating numer- 
ous supernatural objects of worship, do not call for any special 
remark. After these we come to the so-called Patets, which 
belong to the most recent portions of the book, and indicate a 
highly developed consciousness of sin, and of the need of 
divine forgiveness. They correspond in tone and character to 
the General Confession which has been placed by the Church 
of England in the forefront of her Liturgy, except that they 
contain long enumerations of the several classes of offenses for 
which pardon is to be entreated. One of them, after such a cat- 
alogue, thus addresses the Deity: — 

'* Whatever was the wish of the Creator Ormazd, and I ought to 
have thought aud did sot think, whatever I ought to have said and did 
not say, whatever I ought to have done and did not do. — I i*epent of 
these sins, with thoughts, words, and works, both the corporeal an 1 
the spiritual, the earthly and the heavenly sin, with the three words 
(that is, with thoughts, words, and works). Forgive, O Lord; I repeat 
of the sin. 

''Whatever was the wish of Ahriman, and I ought to have thought 
and yet did think, whatever I ought not to have said and yet did say, 
whatever I ought not to have done and yet did, — I repent of these sins 
with thoughts, words, and works, both the corporeal and the spiritual, 
the ^rthly and the heavenly sins, with the three words. Forgive, O 
Lord; I repent of the sin" (A v., vol. iii. p. 211. — Khorda-Avesta, 
xlv. 8, 9). 

Another of these Patets contains the following comprehen- 
sive formula: — 

"In whatever way I may have sinned, against whomsoever I may 
have sinned, howsoever I may have sinned, I repent of it with thoughts, 
words, and works; forgive!" (Av., vol. iii. p. 216. — Khorda-Avesta, 
xlv. 1. 

The same Patet contains a confession of faith, which, as it 
alludes to the several dogmas that were held to be of first-rate 
importance in the creed of the true disciple of Zarathustra, may 
be worth quoting before we quit the subject: — 



THE PATETS AND CONFESSION. 507 

" I believe in the existence, the purity, and the indubitable truth of 
the good Mazdaya^na faith, and in the Creator Ormazd and the Amsch- 
aspands, in the exaction of an account, and in the resurrection of the 
new body. I remain in this faith, and confess that it is not to be 
doubted, as Ormazd imparted it to Zertuscht, Zertuscht to Fraschaostra 
at:d JiimS^p, as Aderbat, the son of Mahresfaud, ordered and purified 
it, as the just Paoiryotkaeshas and the Degtilrs in family succession have 
brought it to us, and I thence am acquainted with it " (Av., vol. iii. p. 
218.— Khorda-Avesta, xlv. 28). 

In more than one respect this confession is interesting. 
First, it asserts the excellence and the unquestionable infallibil- 
ity of the traditional faith in terms which a Catholic could 
hardly improve upon. Secondly, it brings before us in succinct 
form the leading points included in that faith — the Creator, at 
the head of all the created world; the seven Amshaspands or 
Amesha-^pentas, heavenly powers of whom Ormazd himself 
was. chief; the judgment to be expected after death, and the 
strict account then to be required ; lastly, the general resurrec- 
tion with its new body. Proceeding next to the manner in 
which this faitli had been handed down from generation to 
generation, we have first the cardinal doctrine that God himself 
was the direct teacher of his prophet; after ihat, a statement 
that the prophet communicated it to others, from whom it 
descended to still later followers, one of whom is declared to 
have "ordered and purified it." Thus the consciousness of 
subsequent additions to the original law is betrayed. Thus 
amended, the priests, or De9turs, are said to have transmitted 
it to the time of the speaker, the authority of the ecclesiastical 
order in the interpretation of the sacred records being thus 
carefully maintained. 

How many generations had elapsed before the transmission 
of the law could thus become the subject of deliberate incor- 
poration among recognized dogmas, it is impossible to say. 
Undoubtedly, however, we stand a long way off— not only in 
actual time, but in modes of thought and forms of worship — 
from the ancient Iranian prophet. The change from the faith 
of Peter to that of St. Augustine is not greater than that from 
the faith of Zarathustra's rude disciples to. that of the subtle, 



508 HOLY BOOKS, OR BIBLES. 

self-conscious priests who composed these later formularies, or 
the laity who accepted them. Still, after all has been said, 
after it has been freely admitted that subsequent speculation, 
or imagination, or the influence of neighboring creeds, intro- 
duced a host of minor spirits or quasi-gods, of whom Zarathus- 
tra knew nothing, it must also be emphatically asserted that 
the God of Zarathustra never loses, among the multitude of his 
associates, either his supremacy or his unique and transcendent 
attributes. While in the Gathas Ahura-Mazda alone is wor- 
shiped ; while in the later chapters of the Ya9na many other 
personages receive a more or less limited homage along with 
him ; while in the Yashts these personages are singled out one 
after another for what appears unbounded adoration, — the 
original God invariably maintains his rank as the Creator; the 
one Supreme Lord df mankind, as of all his creatures ; the 
instructor of Zarathustra; the Being compared to whom all 
others stand related as the thing made towards its Maker, 
Theism does not in the Avesta pass into polytheism. Strictly 
speaking, its spirit is monotheistic throughout, though we might 
often be betrayed into thinking the contrary by the extrava- 
gance of its language. Nor can I discover in its pages the doc- 
trine which some have held to be contained in it, namely, that 
above Ahura-Mazda, somewhere in the dark background of the 
universe, was a God still greater than him, the ultimate Power 
to which even he must yield, Zrvana-Akarana, or Infinite Time. 
The very name of this highly abtract being appears but rarely 
in the Avesta, and never, so far as I am able to discover, in 
the character thus assigned to him. Ahura-Mazda remains 
throughout the God of Gods; his 'is the highest and most 
sacred name known to his worshipers, and none can compare 
with him, the Infinite Creator, in greatness, in glory, or in 
power. 

It is not to be expected that, in the early stage of social 
progress at which a great part at least of the Avesta was writ- 
ten, its moral doctrines should be altogether faultless. Never- 
theless, it may well sustain a comparison in this respect with 
the codes which have been received as authoritative by other 
nations. Subject to the drawback, common to all theologically- 
influenced systems of ethics, of laying as much stress upon 



MORAL ELEMENT IN ZEND-AVESTA. 609 

correct belief and the diligent performance of the customary 
rites as upon the really fundamental duties of men, the Zend- 
Avesta upholds a high standard of morality, and honestly seeks 
to inculcate upon believers the immense importance of leading 
an upright and virtuous life. Such a life alone is pleasing to 
God; such a life alone can insure a safe passage over the haz- 
ardous bridge by which the soul must pass to Paradise. Not 
only are the more obvious virtues — respect for life, careful 
observance of promises, industrious conduct — sedulously en- 
joined on the faithful Parsee, but some others, less obvious and 
too frequently overlooked, are urged upon them. The seducer 
is bound to provide both for the infant he has called into exist- 
ence, and for its mother, at least for a certain period. Domestic 
animals are not forgotten, and humanity towards these depend- 
ent creatures is commanded in a series of precepts, the spirit of 
which would do honor to any age. And, in general, the blame- 
lessness required in thoughts, words, and works imposed on the 
devout Mazdaya9na a comprehensive attention to the many 
ways in which he might lapse from virtue, and held before him 
an exalted conception of moral purity. 

Yet, when all this has been said, it must still be admitted 
that the -Zend-Avesta hides its light, such as it is, under a 
bushel. Such is the number of supra-mundane spirits to be 
lauded, such a mass of ceremonies to be attended to, so great 
the proportion of space devoted to guarding against legal im- 
purities as compared with that consigned to preventing moral 
evil, that the impression left upon the minds of unbelieving 
readers is on the whole far from favorable. Morality has, in 
fact, got buried under theology. The trivialities, inanities, and 
repetitions that abound in the sacred text draw off the mind 
from the occasional excellences of thought and expression which 
it contains. Thus he who toils through the verbose Fargards 
of the Yendidad, the obscure chapters of the older and younger 
Ya9na, or the panegyrical rhapsodies of the Yashts, will find 
but little to reward his search. With the Gathas indeed it is 
otherwise. These are full of interest, and not quite devoid of a 
simple grandeur. But as a whole, the Avesta is a mine which, 
among vast heaps of rubbish, discloses but here and there a 
grain of gold. 



510 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 



Section VI.— The Koran.* 

Alone among the Scriptures of the several great religions, *' 
the Koran is the work of a single author. It is, therefore, char- 
acterized by greater uniformity of style, subject, and doctrine 
than the sacred collections of other nati. ns. Considerable as 
the difference is between its earlier and its later Suras, a con- 
sistent line of thought is visible throughout, and pious Moslems 
are free from the difficulty that has always beset Christian the- ' 
ologians of '* harmonizing " contradictory passages both sup- 
posed to emanate from God. There are, indeed, earlier revela- 
tions inconsistent with later ones; but in this case, the former 
are held to have been abrogated by the latter. Mediocre in the 
order of its thought, diffuse in style, abundant in repetitions, 
there are few books more calculated to task the patience of a 
conscientious reader. But we must recollect, in judging it, that -^ 
its author did not write it, and very possibly never contemplated 
its existence as a complete work. He published it from time to 
time as occasion required, much as a modern statesman would 
announce his views by means of speeches, pamphlets, or elec- 
tion addresses. 

When a revelation arrived, Mahomet in the first instance 
dictated it to his secretary Zaid, who wrote it on palm-leaves or 
skins, or tablets of any kind that might be at hand. Of the 
remaining Moslems, some took copies, but many more com- 
mitted the revelations to memory; the Arab memory being 
remarkably retentive. Under the reign of Abu Bekr, the 
prophet's successor, Omar, finding that some one who knew a 
piece of the Koran had been killed, suggested that the whole 
should be collected. The suggestion was adopted, and Abu 
Bekr intrusted the work of collection to the secretary Zaid. 
The Koran was then put together, not only from the leaves 
that had been left by Mahomet, and thrown without any regard 
to order into a chest, but also from the fragments, either writ- 

* Complete translations of the Koran into English have been made by Sale 
and by Eodwell. Considerable portions have been rendered into German by 
Springier, " Das Leben und die Lehre des Mohammed;" and by Gustav Weil, 
"Mohammed der Prophet;" and into English by Dr. Muir. in his "Life of 
Mahomet." 



SUBJECT-MATTER OF THE KORAN, 511 

ten or preserved in the memory, that were contributed by indi- 
vidual believers. The copy thus made was not published, but 
was committed for safe custody to Hafsa, daughter of Omar, and 
one of the widows of the prophet. She kept it during the ten 
years of her father Omar's caliphate. But as there were no 
official and authorized copies of this genuine Koran, it came to 
pass that the various missionaries who were sent as teachers to 
the newly-conquered countries repeated it differently, and that 
various readings crept into the transcripts in use. Henoe seri- 
ous threateuings of division and scandal among the Moslems. 
The caliph Othman, foreseeing the danger, appointed a com- 
mission, with the secretary Zaid at its head, to copy the copy 
of Hafsa and. return it to lier, their duty being to determine on 
differences of reading, and to be careful to restore the Meccan 
idiom where it had been departed from in any of the versions. 
Several copies were made by the commissioners, of which one 
was kept at Medina, and the others sent to the great military 
stations. This was the official text, prepared about a. h. 25-30 ; 
and after its establishment, all private copies or fragments of 
the Koran were ordered by Othman to be destroyed.* The 
original Koran, which Mahomet did but reproduce, is supposed 
by those who accept it as divine to be preserved in heaven, in 
the very presence of its original autlior, on an enormous table. 

In the Koran, as arranged by Zaid, there is apparently no 
fixed principle in the order of the Suras or chapters. In the 
main, the longest Suras come first, but even this rule is not 
adhered to consistently. Of chronological arrangement there is 
not a trace, and it has been left to the ingenuity of Euro- 
pean scholars to endeavor to discover approximately the date 
of the several revelations. Of some, the occasions of their pub- 
lication are knov/n, but in the case of the great majority, noth- 
ing beyond a conjectural arrangement can be attained. 

The principal themes with which the Koran is occupied are 
the unity of God ; his attributes ; the several prophets preced- 
ing Mahomet, whom he has sent to convert unbelievers; the 
joys of Paradise and the terrors of hell; and the legislative 
edicts promulgated for the government of the Arabs under the 

* L, L. M., vol. iii,. Vorrede, Sale preliminary discourse, p. 46.— K., p. vli. 



512 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

new religion. Of tiiese several subjects, the first two occupy a 
predominant place in the earliest revelations. Legends of 
prophets, of whom Mahomet recognized a considerable number, 
form one of the standing dishes set before the faithful during 
all but the very beginning of his career. He was also fond of 
speaking of the contrast between the position of believers and 
skeptics in a future state ; but he seems at first to have expected 
a temporal judgment on his Meccan opponents, and afterwards 
to have been contented with awaiting the divine vengeance in 
another world. Legislation, of course, belongs only to that por- 
tion of the Koran which was revealed after the Hegira. 

A few specimens will be quite sufficient to give a notion both 
of the earlier and later style of this sacred volume. Here is a 
Sura revealed at Mecca during the first struggles of the proph- 
et's mind, when it was completely possessed with the awfulness 
of the new truth: — 

" O thou enfolded in thy mantle, stand up all night, except a small 
portion of it, for prayer. Half ; or curtail the half a little, — or add to it : 
and with measured tone intone the Koran, for we shall devolve on thee 
weighty words. Verily, at the coming of night are devout (Italics, here 
and elsewhere, in Rodwell) impressions strongest, and words are most 
collected; hut in the daytime thou hast continual employ — and com- 
memorate the name of thy Lord, and devote thyself to him with entire 
devotion. ... Of a truth, thy Lord knoweth that thou prayest 
almost two-thirds, or half, or a third of the night, as do a part of thy 
followers" (K., p. 7.— Sura, 73). 

This is the opening Sura of the Koran: — 

"Praise he to God, Lord of tlie worlds! the compassionate! the 
merciful! King on the day of reckoning! Thee only ^o we worship, and 
to thee do we cry for help. Guide thou us on the straight path, the 
path of those to whom thou hast been gracious; with whom thou art not 
angry, and who go not astray " (K., p. 11.— Sura, 1). 

In the Sura now to be quoted we find an allusion to one of 
the prophets whom Mahomet regarded as precursors —the 
prophet Saleh, who had sent them to a pe<>ple called Themoud 
to bid them worship God. The legend associated with his name 



HOW THE PROPHET CONSOLED HIMSELF. 513 

is, that he appealed to a she-camel as a proof of his divine 
mission, commanding the people to let her go at large and do 
her no hurt. Some of the Themoudites believed; but they were 
ridiculed by the skeptical chiefs of the nation, whose wickedness 
went so far as actually to hamstring the apostolic camel. Here- 
upon an earthquake overtook them by night, and they were all 
found dead in the morning (K., p, 376. —Sura, 7. 71-77). Such 
things were Mahomet's stock-in-trade; and the following Sura 
exemplifies the mixture of his early poetic thoughts with the 
prosaic narratives which did duty so constantly during the 
maturity of his apostleship : — 

"By the Sun and his noonday brightness! by the Moon when she 
followeth himl by the Day when it revealeth his glory 1 by the Night 
when it enshroudeth him! by the Heaven and him who built it! by the 
Earth and him who spread it forth! by a Soul and him who balanced it, 
and breathed into it its wickedness and its piety ! blessed now is he who 
hath kept it pure, and undone is he who hath corrupted it! 

" Themoud in his impiety rejected the message of the Lord, when 
the greatest wretch among them rushed up: — Said the apostle of God to 
them, — The camel of God ! let her drink. But they treated him as an 
imposter and hamstrung her. So their Lord destroyed them for their 
crime, and visited all alike: nor feared he the issue" (K., p. 24. — Sura, 91). 

The same Sura which contains the history of Saleh, prophet 
of Themoud, refers also to various other divine messengers who 
had fulfilled the same office of announcing the judgments of 
God. Mahomet's general view of the prophetic function seems 
to be expressed in these words: — 

" Every nation hath its set time. And when their time is come they 
shall not retard it an hour; and they shall not advance it. O children 
of Adam! there shall come to you Apostles from among yourselves, 
rehearsing my signs to you; and whoso shall fear God and do good 
works, no fear shall be upon them, neither shall they be put to grief. 
But they who charge our signs with faisehood, and turn away from them 
in their pride, shall be inmates of the fire; for ever shall they abide 
therein" (K, p. 371.— Sura, 7. 32-34). 

The prophets whom he mentions in this Sura are Noah, who 
was sent to warn his people of the Deluge; Houd, sent to Ad, 



514 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

an unbelieving nation Whom God cut off, with the exception of 
those who had accepted Houd ; Saleh, sent to Themoud as 
above related; Lot, sent to Sodom to warn it against sin; 
Shoaib, sent to Madian, a people of which the unbelieving 
members were destroyed by earthquakes; Moses, sent with 
signs to Pharaoh and his nobles, as also to the Israelites, of 
whom some worshiped the calf, and were overtaken by the 
wrath of their Lord (K., p. 375-386. — Sura, 7. 57-154). In another 
Sura he makes mention of other prophets besides these : namely, 
of John the Baptist, Jesus of Nazareth, Abraham, Ishmael, and 
Enoch (K., p. 127 ff. —Sura, 19). 

His view of Jesus Christ is peculiar and interesting. He in- 
variably treats him with the highest respect as a servant of 
God and his own precursor, but he is careful to protest that the 
opinion of his divinity was not held by Jesus, and was a base- 
less invention of his followers. The notion that God could have. 
a son seems to him a gross profanation, and he often recurs to 
it in terms of the strongest reprobation. Thus he endeavors to 
claim Christ as a genuine Moslem, and to include Christianity 
within the pale of the new faith. A Christian who adopted it 
might continue, indeed must continue, to believe everything in 
tlie Old and New Testaments, except such passages as expressly 
assert the incarnation and divinity ^of Jesus. Yet Mahomet's 
own version of this prophet's conception involves a supernatural 
element, and only differs from that of Luke in not asserting the 
paternity of God. 

"And make mention in the Book," he' says, "of Mary when 
she went apart from her family, eastward, and took a veil to 
shroud herself from them, and we sent our spirit to her, and he 
took before her the form of a perfect man. She said: 'I fly for 
refuge from thee to the God of Mercy! If thou fearest him 
begone from me.' He said : 'I am only a messsenger of thy 
Lord, that I may bestow on thee a holy son.' She said: 'How 
shall I have a sou, when man hath never touched me, and I am 
not unchaste.' He said: 'So shall it be. Thy Lord hath said: 
easy is this with me^ and we will make him a sign to mankind 
and a mercy from us. For it is a thing decreed.' And she con- 
ceived him, and retired with him to a far-off place " (K., p. 128. 
—Sura, 19. 16-22). 



MAHOMET'S ESTIMATE OF CHRIST. 515 

Her virginity is expressly asserted in another place, wliero 
she is described as "Mary, the daughter of Imran, who kept 
her maidenhood, and into whose womb we breathed of our 
spirit."* 

When the child was born the woman was accused of unchas- 
tity, but the infant prophet at once opened his mouth and 
declared his prophetic character. From this narrative it appears 
that, in Mahomet's opinion, Jesus was neither begotten by a 
, human father, nor was the son of God. He finds a via media in 
the doctrine that he was created, like Adam, by an express ex- 
ertion of the power of the Almighty. '*He created him of dust: 
He then said to him, 'Be,' and he was" (K., p. 502.— Sura, 3. 52). 
And again, in the Sura above quoted: *' It beseemeth not God 
to beget a son. Glory be to him ! when he decreeth a thing, he 
only saith to it. Be, and it is " (K., p. 130.— Sura, 19. 36). 

He is very indignant against those who hold the doctrine of 
the incarnation, which he apparently considers as equivalent to 
that of physical generation by the Deity, and which, under any 
aspect, is certainly shocking to a genuine monotheist. 

"They say: 'The God of Mercy hath gotten offspring.' Now 
have ye done a monstrous thing ! Almost might the very heav- 
ens be rent thereat, and the earth cleave asunder, and the 
mountains fall down in fragments, that they ascribe a son to the 
God of Mercy, when it beseemeth not the God of Mercy to 
beget a son!" (K., p. 135.— Sura, 19. 91-93.) "And they say, 
'God hath a son:' No! Praise be to him! But his whatever is 
in the heavens and the earth! All obeyeth him, sole Maker of 
the heavens and of the earth! and when he decreeth a thing he 
only saith to it. Be, and it is " (K., p. 445.— Sura, 2. 110-111). 

Mahomet's conception of his own character is most clearly 
expressed in the seventh Sura, where, after enumerating some 
of the prophets who had gone before him (as already related), 
he proceeds to describe a supposed dialogue between Moses and 
God, in which the Deity speaks thus: — 

"My chastisement shall fall on whom I will, and my mercy em- 
braceth all things, and I write it down for those who shall fear me, and 

* K,, p. 604.— Sura, 66. 12. She is called the daughter of Imran, by a confu- 
sion between Mary, mother of Jesus, and Mariam, sister of Moses. 



516 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

pay the alms, and believe in our signs, who shall follow the Apostle, the 
unlettered Prophet — whom they shall find described with them in the 
Law and Evangel. What is right will he enjoin them, and forbid them 
what is wrong, and will allow them healthful viands and prohibit the 
impure, and will ease them of their burden, and of the yokes which 
were upon them; and those who shall believe in him, and strengthen 
him, and help him, and follow the light which hath been sent down with 
him, — these are they with whom it shall be well." 

The revelation to Moses now ceases, and God continues to 
address Mahomet with the usual preliminary "say:"— 

*' Say to them: O men! Verily I am God's apostle to you all: whose 
is the kingdom of the Heavens and of the Earth! There is no God but 
he ! He maketli alive and killeth ! Therefore believe on God and his 
apostle — the unlettered Prophet — ^who believeth in God and his word. 
And follow him that ye may be guided aright" (K., p. 386.— Sura, 7. 
155-158). 

Mahomet liked to describe himself as unlettered, and thus to 
obtain for the scriptural knowledge and literary skill displayed 
in the Koran the credit of its being due to inspiration. 

In another place he again describes his prophetic character 
in the following strain: — 

" Muhammed is not the father of any man among you, but he is the 
Apostle of God and the seal of the prophets: and God knoweth all 
things. . . . O Prophet! we have sent thee to be a witness, and a 
herald of glad tidings, and a warner; and one who, through his own per- 
mission, summoneth to God, and a light-giving torch " (K,, p. 567. — Sura, 
33, 40, 44, 45). 

A conspicuous feature of the Koran to which allusion has 
not yet been made is its frequent reference to the pleasures of 
Paradise to be enjoyed by the faithful, and the pains of hell to 
be suffered by the infidels. The day of judgment is continually 
held out as an encouragement to the former, and a terror to 
the latter. The fifty-sixth Sura contains a description of heaven 
which is enough to make the mouth of good Moslems water. 
*' The people of the right hand " are to be happy ; those of the 
left hand, wretched. The former are to have " gardens of de- 



THE HEAVEN AND HELL OF THE KORAN. 517 

light," with "inwrought couches," whereon reclining, "aye- 
blooming youths" are to bring them "flowing wine" of the 
best celestial vintage. They are to enjoy their favorite fruits, 
and to eat whatever birds they long for. " Houris with large 
dark eyes," and "ever virgins," never growing old, are to sup- 
ply them with the pleasures of love, so strangely overlooked in 
the Christian pictures of heavenly life. On the other side, we 
have "the people of the left hand," who are to be tormented 
with "pestilential winds" and "scalding water," and are to 
live "in the shadow of a black smoke," with the fruit of a bit- 
ter tree to eat and boiling water to drink (K., p. 60. — Sura, 56). 
The prophet delights in warning his enemies of their coming 
fate. "Verily," says God in anoUier place, "we have got ready 
the flame for tl^ infidel" {K., p. 598. — Sura, 48. 13). "O 
Prophet!" we read elsewhere, "make war on the infidels and 
hypocrites, and deal rigorously with them. Hell shall be their 
abode! and wTetched the passage to it! " (K., p. 606.— Sura, 66 
9). "God promiseth the hypocritical men and women, and the 
unbelievers, the fire of hell — therein shall they abide — this 
their sufiBcing portion!" (K., p. 621.— Sura, 9, 69). Some, who 
had declined to march with the Prophet from Medina on account 
of the heat, are sternly reminded that " a fiercer heat will be 
the fire of hell" (K., p. 623.— Sura, 9. 82). 

In contradistinction to the deplorable state of the hypocrites 
and unbelievers — blind in this world and destined to suffer 
eternally in the next — we have a pleasing picture of the con- 
dition of the faithful Moslems: — 

" Muhammed is the apostle of God; and his comrades are vehement 
against the infidels, but full of tenderness among themselves. Thou 
mayst see them bowing down, prostrating themselves, imploring favors 
from God, and his acceptance. Their tokens are on their faces, the 
marks of their prostrations. This is their picture in the Law and their 
picture in the Evangel; they are as the seed which putteth forth its 
stalk; then strengtheneth it, and it groweth stout, and riseth upon its 
stem, rejoicing the husbandman — that the infidels may be wrathful at 
them. To such of them as believe and do the things that are right, hath 
God promised forgiveness and a noble recompense" (K., p. 601. — 
Sura, 48. 29). 



518 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 



Section VII. — T^e Old Testament. 

Before entering upon the comparative examination of the 
Hebrew Canon, it is necessary to say a few words of the extra- 
ordinary race who were its authors. There is probably no other 
book of which it may be said, with the same depth and fulness 
of meaning, that it is the work of a nation and the reflection 
of a nation's life. The history of the Bible and the history of 
the Jews are more intimately bound up together than is that 
of any other nation with that of any other book. During the 
period of their political existence as a separate people they 
wrote the Canon. During the long period of political annihila- 
tion which has succeeded, they have not ceased to write com- 
mentaries on the Canon. This one great production has filled 
the imaginations, has influenced the intellect, has fed tHe relig- 
ious ardor of each succeeding generation of Jews. To name 
the canonical Scriptures, and the endless series of writings sug- 
gested by them or based upon them, would be almost to sum 
up the results of the literary activity of the Hebrew race. 

Our first historical acquaintance with the Hebrews brings 
them before us as obtaining by conquest, and then inhabiting, 
that narrow strip of territory bordering the Mediterranean Sea 
which is known as Palestine. Their -own legends, indeed, carry 
us back to a still earlier period, when they lived as slaves in 
Egypt ; but on these, from the character of the' narrative, very 
little reliance can be placed. The story, gradiftiUy becoming 
less and less mythical, tells us, what is probably true, that 
they overcame the native inhabitants of Palestine in war, and 
seized upon their land; that they then passed through an an- 
archial period, during which the centre of authority seems to 
have been lost, and the national unity was in no small danger 
of being destroyed, had not vigorous and able leaders interposed 
to save it ; that, under the pressure of these circumstances, they 
adopted a monarchial constitution, by which the dangers of this 
time of anarchy were at least to a large extent averted, and the 
discordant elements brought into subjection to a common centre. 
Thus united, the Jewish monarchy rapidly attained a consider- 
able height of splendor and of power. Surrounding nations fell 



EARLY JEWISH HISTORY. 519 

under its sway, and it took rank as one of the great powers 
wtiich divided Western Asia. But this glory was not to last 
long. The monarchy, broken up into two hostile parts by the 
folly of Kehoboam, lost alike its unity and its strength ; and 
after a long series of kings, whom it is needless to enumerate, 
both its branches fell victims, at separate times, the one to 
Shalmaneser, king oT the Assyrians, t!ie other to Nebuchadnez- 
zar, king of the Chaldees. The latter event, while it put an end 
to the very existence of the Jewish nation as an independent 
political power — for it was but a fitful independence which was 
recovered under the Asmoneans — marks an epoch which severs 
the history of the Jews into two periods, distinguished from one 
another by the completely different character borne by the peo- 
ple in each. It is customary, for theological purposes, to rep- 
resent the religious development of the Jews as pervaded by a 
fundamental unity. They are supposed to have known and 
worshiped the true God from the beginning, to have been 
sharply marked off from the rest of the world by their strict 
monotheism, and to have been unfaithful to their inherited 
creed only when they refused to recognize Christ and his apos- 
tles as its authorized interpreters. Their own records tell a 
very different story. According to these, the religion of the 
Jews, like that of other nations, pro.-;ressed, changed, improved, 
underwent purification and alteration, and was, in its earlier 
forms, not much unlike that of the surrounding heathens. Their 
leaders, indeed, and all those whom their Scriptures uphold as 
examples of excellence, worshiped a national God, Jehovah, 
whom they may have considered the only god wdio enjoyed 
actual existence and possessed actual power. But whether or 
not this were the case, he was, for all practical purposes, simply 
the tutelary deity of the Hebrews. In his name the conquerors 
of Palestine pillaged, murdered, and inflicted cruelties on the 
vanquished ; to him they looked for aid in their belligerent 
undertakings ; to him they offered the first fruits of victory. 
It was under his direct leadership that they professed to subdue 
the heathens, and to attain national security. The ark was his 
dwelling, and it could only bring destruction to the Philistines, 
who were not under the protection of its inmate. And when 
the Jews asked to be placed under the rule of a monarch, they 



520 . HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

were told by the mouthpiece of Jehovah that it was his divine 
government which they were rejecting. The morality of the 
chiefs who conducted the invasion and subjugation of Palestine 
was not one wliib superior to that of their enemies, nor was the 
god on whose power they relied of an essentially higher nature 
than many other national or local divinities who were worshiped 
by other nations. They were the rude leaders of a rude people 
worshiping a rude deity. His character was such as we might 
expect the tutelary divinity of a tribe of wandering and unset- 
tled Bedouins to be. Having to establish their right to a per- 
manent home and an organized government by force of arms, 
it was only natural that they should represent their God as 
favoring the exploits of those arms, and even urging them on 
to the most ruthless exercise of the rights of conquerors. It 
was natural that even their most revolting acts should be placed 
under the especial patronage of this approving god. It was 
natural, too, that when the conquest had been at least in great 
part effected, while yet the anarchial and semi-savage condition 
of the victors continued (as it did more or less until after the 
accession of David), and internal strife took the place of exter- 
nal warfare, the national god should become to some extent a 
party-god ; should favor one section against another, and even 
excite the ferocious passion of those to whose side he inclined. 
The god of Mo3es, of Joshua, and the Judges was thus a pas- 
sionate, relentless, and cruel partisan. No doubt the facts were 
not precisely such as they are represented to us by the writers 
in the Old Testament, since in the internecine conflicts which 
occasionally broke forth we may assume that each side claimed 
for itself the approbation of Jehovah. But still the story of the 
Hebrew annals is clear enough to show us the semi-savage 
character of the people in these early days, and their utter 
failure to form that lofty conception of the deity with which 
they have been so largely credited by believers in the supernat- 
ural inspiration of their historical records. 

The primitive conception entertained at this period, which 
corresponded with that generally found among uncivilized 
nations, was improved and elevated to some extent during the 
age of comparatively settled government which succeeded. As 
the Israelites advanced in the practice of the arts, in the pos- 



JEWISH MONOTHEISM. 521 

session of wealth, in the cultivation of the literarj^ or musical 
attainments that ratine domestic life, in the peaceful organiza- 
tion of a society that had become more industrial and less war- 
like, their idea of Jehovah underwent the modifications which 
these changes imply. The god of Samuel is widely different 
from the god of Isaiah or Jeremiah. Whether the popular 
notion had risen to the height attained by these prophets may 
indeed be doubted; but this too must have altered in order to 
make such prophets possible. Yet, in spite of the comparative 
improvement, there are abundant indications during the kingly 
period that the old Hebrew deity still retained the ferocious 
characteristics by which he had formerly been distinguished. 
Elijah's patron is gracious enough to his own adherents, but 
the attributes of mercy or gentleness towards human beings 
generally are undiscoverable in his character. And the deeds of 
blood which pious monarchs from time to time were guilty of 
in his honor, and which received his approbatioHy show that if 
the process of his civilization had begun, it was still very far 
from being completed. 

But the special glory of the Jewish race is supposed to con- 
sist even more in the fact that this God, such as he was, stood 
alone, than in the excellence of the manner in which they con- 
ceived of his nature. The constancy of their monotheism, amid 
the polytheism of surrounding nations, has appeared to subse- 
quent generations so marvelous as to require a revelation to 
account for it. The facts, however, as related to us by the Jews 
themselves, do not warrant the supposition that monotheism 
actually was the creed of the people until after the Captivity. 
It appears, indeed, that that form of belief was held by those 
who are depicted to us as the most eminent and the most vir- 
tuous among them, and it would seem that there was generally 
a considerable party who adhered to the worship of Jehovah, 
and at times su ;ceeded in forcing it upon the nation at largo. 
But that Jehovism was the authorized and established national 
religion, and that every other form and variety of faith was an 
authorized innovation, is a far wider conclusion than the facts 
will warrant us in drawing. This, no doubt, and nothing less 
than this, is the contention of the historical writers of the Old 
Testament; but even their own statements, made as they are 



522 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

under the influence of the strongest Jehovistic bias, point with 
tolerable clearness to a different conclusion. They inform us 
that while the most ancient leaders of the Israelites who con- 
ducted them to the promised land, the distinguished Judges who 
from time to time arose, and all the most virtuous kings, 
belonged to the religion of Jehovah, the people, notwithstanding 
these great examples, were continually guilty of relapses into 
idolatry of the most flagrant kind. This tendency manifested 
itself so early, and reappeared with such persistence during the 
whole history of the Israelites of both branches up to the 
destruction of their respective monarchies, that we cannot, con- 
sistently^ with the admitted facts, suppose that Jehovism had at 
any time taken very deep root in the mind of the people. They 
seem, on the contrary, to have been readily swayed to and fro 
by the example of the reigning monarch. Whether indeed they 
sincerely adopted monotheism under a monotheistic sovereign, 
may perhaps be doubted ; but the emphatic denunciations of the 
BiblicajJ. writers leave us no room to question the perfect sin- 
cerity of their idolatry. All therefore that we can be justified 
in inferring from what they tell us is, that a succession of 
priests and prophets maintained the faith of Jehovah from age 
to age, and that from time to time a sovereign arose who 
favored their views, and did all in his power, sometimes by fair 
means and not unfrequently by foul, to advance the interests 
of the Jehovistic party. Indian history acquaints us with very 
similar fluctuations in the religion of a province, according as 
the priests of one or the other contending sect succeeded in 
obtaining influence over the mind of the reigning Eajah. But 
although we maintain that monotheism was not, previous to 
the captivity, the popular religion of the Jews, we need not go 
the length of asserting that there was no difference in their 
minds between Jehovah and the other deities whom they 
adopted from surrounding nations. Jehovah was unquestiona- 
bly the national god, who was held to extend a peculiar protec- 
tion over the Hebrew race. Nor does it follow that those who 
betook themselves to some idolatrous cultus necessarily aban- 
doned that of Jehovah. Both migjit well have been carried on 
together, and there is abundant evidence that the Jews of this 
period had much of that elasticity which characterizes poly the- 



MONOTHEISM NOT RADICAL TO JUDAISM. 523 

ism, and makes it ever ready to add new members to its pan- 
theon without discarding old favorites. So far as there was a 
national worship carried on by a national priesthood, Jehovah 
must have been its object. But we are not therefore compelled 
to imagine that the nation had adopted Jehovism in so solemn 
and binding a manner as to render its abandonment a gross 
violation of their fundamental institutions. No doubt, according 
to the Scriptural writers, it was a deliberate breach of the orig- 
nal constitution to forsake, even for a moment, the exclusive 
service of the national god for that of any other deity whatso- 
ever. But the supernatural origin assigned by them to this 
original constitution throws a doubt on their assertions, while 
the facts they report serve to increase it. For while we learn 
that Jehovah was' deserted by one generation after another in 
favor of more popular rivals, much to the indignation of his 
priests and prophets, we do not perceive any traces of a con- 
sciousness on the part of the idolaters that they were guilty of 
infidelity to fundamental and unchangeable laws. They rather 
appear to have acted in mere levity, and the repeated objurga- 
tions of the Jehovistic party would tend to the conclusion that 
the people were not aware of any binding obligation to adhere 
to the worship of this deity to the exclusion of that of every 
other. The efforts of the Jehovists may indeed show that they 
believed such an obligation to exist : but not that their oppo- 
nents were equally aware of it. Moreover, we are not without 
some more positive testimony which strongly favors this view 
of their mutual relations. Under the reign of the pious, and no 
doubt credulous, Josiah, a certain priest professed to have dis- 
covered a "book of the law" mysteriously hidden in the tem- 
ple. Without discussing in this place what book this may have 
been, it is plain that it inculcated Jehovism under the penalty 
of curses similar to those found in Deuteronomy, and it is plain 
too that its contents caused the monarch a painful surprise, 
which expressed itself by his rending his clothes and sending a 
commission to "inquire of the Lord" "concerning the words 
of this book that is found." Now is it possible to suppose that 
the words of such a book as this could have inflicted on Josiah 
so great a shock, or have required the appointment of a special 
commission to inquire concerning them, if it had been a mat- 



524 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

ter of familiar and general knowledge among the Jews tbat 
their forefathers had solemnly adopted Jehovism as the only- 
lawful national creed, invoking upon themselves those very 
curses which the most devout of monarchs was now unable to 
hear without astonishmont and alarm ? And how are we to ex- 
plain the production of this book by the priests as a new dis- 
covery? If it had been merely the re-discovery of a lost volume 
would the language of the narrative have been at all appropri- 
ate ? Must not Josiah in that case have rejoiced at the restora- 
tion to Judah of so precious a treasure, however much he 
might have regretted the failure of the nation to observe its 
precepts ? The difficulty of supposing such facts to have been 
forgotten is equally great. It would be scarcely possible to im- 
agine that not only the people, but the priests, could at any 
period have lost all memory of the fact that they were bound, 
under the most terrible penalties, to adhere to the faith bf Je- 
hovah. At least the spiritual advisers of so religious a monarch 
must have been well aware that their own creed formed an 
essential part of the Jewish constitution ; and we cannot doubt 
that they would carefully have impressed this fact on their will- 
ing pupil, not as a startling disclosure made only after he had 
been seventeen years on the throne and had attained the age of 
twenty-five, but as one of his earliest and most familiar lessons. 
In fact, this sudden discovery, in some secret recess of the tem- 
ple, of a hitherto unknown volume, concerning whose claims to 
authority or antiquity the writers preserve a mysterious silence, 
rather suggests the notion of a Jehovistic coup d'etat, prepared 
by the zeal of Hilkiah the priest and Shaphan the scribe. A 
long time had passed since the accession of the king. His 
favorable dispositions were well known. Since the eighth year 
of his reign at least he had been under the influence of the 
priests, and in the twelfth he had entered (no doubt under their 
directions) upon that career of persecuting violence which was 
usual with pious monarchs in Judea.* His mind was undoubt- 
edly predisposed to receive with implicit confidence any state- 
ments they might make. Hence, if Hilkiah and his associates 
had conceived the idea of compiling, from materials at their 

* So in 2 Chron. xxiv. 3-7. But in 2 Kings xxii. l, 2. there is no 
mention of the period at which "he began to seek after the God of David." 



THE CAPTIVITY ; ITS EFFECTS. 525 

command, a book which, while recapitulating some events in the 
ancient history of Israel, should represent those events in a 
light favorable to their designs, they could hardly have chosen 
a better moment for the execution of such a scheme. That they 
actually did this, it would be going beyond the evidence in our 
possession to assert, It may be that the book was an old one ; 
and in any case, it is unnecessary to suppose that it was an 
original composition of Hilkiah's, palmed off upon the king as 
ancient. All that appears to me clearly to follow from the 
terms of the narrative is, that the law which this book con- 
tained (evidently the law of Jehovah) had not hitherto been 
regarded as the established law of the country, and that the 
production of this volume, in which its claims to that dignity 
were emphatically asserted, and its violation represented as en- 
tailing the most grevious curses, was one of the plans taken by 
the priestly parly to i)rocure for it the recognition of that 
supremacy which they declared it had actually enjoyed in the 
days of their forefathers. But although the history of Israel 
has been written by adherents of this party, and we are unfor- 
tunately precluded from checking their statements by any doc- 
ument recounting the same events from the point of view of 
their opponents, their records, biased as they are, clearly show 
us a nation whose favorite and ordinary creed was not mono- 
theism; which was ever ready to adopt with fervor the idola- 
trous practices of its neighbors; and which was not converted 
to pure and exclusive monotheism till after the terrible lesson 
of the Captivity in Babylon. 

This great event was turned to excellent account by the 
priests and prophets of Jehovah. Instead of. regarding it ^s a 
natural consequence of the political relations of Judea with 
more powerful empires, they represented it as the fulfillment of 
the penalties threatened by Jehovah for infidelity towards him- 
self. And as this view offered a plausible explanation of their 
unparalleled misfortunes, it was naturally accepted by many as 
the true solution of sufferings so difiBcult to reconcile with the 
protection supposed to be accorded by their national god. Un- 
der these circumstances a double process went on during their 
compulsory residence in heathendom. Great numbers, who 
were either not Jehovists, or whose Jehovism was but lukewarm, 



526 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

gradually adapted themselves to their situation among idolaters, 
and became at length indistinguishably fused, as the ten scribes 
had been, with the alien races. But a few remained faithful to 
their God. These few it was who formed the whole of the 
nation which, when return was possible, returned to their native 
soil. Those who were not inspired by a deep sense of the sanc- 
tity of their national religion ; those to whom the restoration 
of their national rites was not the one object of overwhelming 
importance; those whose hopes of national restoration were of 
a temporal rather than a spiritual nature, had no sufficient 
motive to return to their native soil. Jerusalem could have no 
attractions for them which Babylon did not possess. Thus, by 
a natural process, the most, ardent, the most spiritual, the most 
unbending monotheists were weeded out from the mass of the 
community, and it was they who accompanied Zerubbabel or 
Ezra on his sacred mission. Misfortune, which had not shaken 
their faith, had deepened and purified it. Not only were they 
Jehovists, but they were Jehovists of the sternest type. There 
was among them none of that admixture of levity, and none of 
that facile adaptability to foreign rites, which characterized the 
oldest Jews. From this time forward their monotheism has 
never been broken by a single relapse. 

Thus the Captivity forms the turning-point in the character 
of the Jews; for, in fact, the nation which was conquered by 
Nebuchadnezzar was not the nation which, in the days of Kyros 
and Artaxerxes returned tore-colonize and rebuild Jerusalem. 
The conquered people belonged to a monarchy which, if it was 
now feeble and sunken, was directly descended from one which 
had been glorious and mighty, and which had aimed at preserv- 
ing for Judea the status and dignity of an independent power. 
Under its influence the Jews had been mobile, idolatrous, deaf 
to the voice of Jehovistic prophets, neglectful of Jehovistic 
rites ; desirous of conquest, and, when that was impossible, un- 
willing on political grounds to submit to foreign domination; 
rude if not semi-barbarous in morals, and distracted by 'the 
contention of rival religious parties. But this polity, of which 
the ruling motives were mainly political, was succeeded after 
the return of the exiles by a polity of which the ruling motives 
were exclusively religious. All were now adherents of Jehovah ; 



RISE OF JEWISH EXCLUSIVENESS. 527 

all were zealous performers of the rites conceived to be his due. 
This change must be borne in mind if we would understand 
Jewish history ; for the same language is not applicable to the 
Jews before and after the Captivity, nor can we regard in the 
same light a struggling and feeble race upholding its unani- 
mous faith in the midst of trials, and an independent nation in 
which a party, from tinie to time victorious, endeavors to impose 
that faith by force. We may without inconsistency censure the 
violence of the Jehovistic sectaries, and admire the courage of 
the Jehovistic people. But although there is much in this 
change that is good, it must be admitted that it has its bad 
side. While becoming more conscientious, more scrupulously 
true to its own principles, and more penetrated with a sense 
of religion, Judaism became at the same time more rigid, 
more formal, more ritualistic, and more unsocial. Ewald has 
remarked that the constitution established after the return from 
captivity is one that lays undue stress upon the exterior forms 
of religion, and may in time even become hostile to what is 
truly holy. As it claims to be in possession of something holy 
which temporal governments do not possess, it cannot submit 
to their dominion; hence, he observes, Israel could never be- 
come an independent nation again under this constitution.* 
Nor was this all. Even apart from its tendency to magnify 
external forms, which was perhaps not of its essence, the 
religion of Jehovah had inherent vices. The Jews, believing 
their god to be the only true one, and insisting above all on 
the supreme importance of preserving the purity of his cultus, 
were necessarily led to assume a haughty and exclusive attitude 
towards all other nations, which could not fail to provoke their 
hostility. This unloveable spirit was shown immediately after 
their return by their contumelious rejection of the Samaritan 
proposals to aid in building the temple — proposals which seem 
to have been made in good faith; by the Sabbatarian legislation 
of Nehemiah ; and even more by the exclusively harsh meas- 
ures taken by Ezra for the purification of the race. It was 
simply inevitable that all heathen nations who came in contact 
with them should hate a people who acted on such principles. 

* Ewald, Geschichte des Volkes Israel, vol. iv.— Die Heilgherrschaft, 3 
Pio bestimmtere Gestaltung der Zeit der neuen Wendunsr, 



528 HOLY BOOKS, OR BIBLES. 

Nor were the fears of the heathen altogether without founda- 
tion. When the Jews recovered a temporary independence under 
the Maccabees, their intolerance, now able to vent itself in acts 
of conquest, became a source of serious danger. Thus, John 
Hyrcanus destroyed the temple of the Samaritans (who also 
worshiped Jehovah) on Mount Gerizim, and - the Jews actually 
commemorated the event by a semi-festival. Alexander Janna- 
sus, too, carried on wars of conquest against his neighbors. In. 
one of these he took the town of Gaza, and evinced the treat- 
ment to be expected from him by letting loose his army on the 
inhabitants and utterly destroying their city. It was no doubt 
their unsocial and proud behavior towards all who were not 
Jews that provoked the heathens to try their temper by so 
many insults directed to the sensitive point — their religion. 
Culpable as this was, it must be admitted that it was in some 
degree the excessive scrupulosity of the Jews in regard to things 
indifferent in themselves that exposed them to so much annoy- 
ance. Had they been content to permit the existence of Hel- 
lenic or Eoman customs side by side with theirs, they might have 
been spared the miseries which they subsequently endured. 
But the Scriptures, from beginning to end, breathed a spirit of 
fierce and exclusive attachment to Jehovah; he was the only 
deity; all other objects of adoration were an abomination in 
his sight. Penetrated with this spirit, the Jews patiently sub- 
mitted to the yoke of every succeeding authority— Chaldeans, 
Syrians, Egyptians, Komans — until the stranger presumed to 
tamper with the national religion. Then their resistance was 
fierce and obstinate. The great rebellion which broke out in 
the reign of Antiochus Epiphanes, under the leadership of Mat- 
tathias, was provoked by the attempt of that monarch to force 
Greek institutions on the Jewish people. The glorious dynasty 
of the Asmoneans were priests as well as kings, and the royal 
ofQce, indeed, was only assumed by them in the generation 
after that in which they had borne the priestly office, and as a 
consequence of the authority derived therefrom. Under the 
semi-foreign family of the Herods, who supplanted the Asmo- 
neans, and ruled under Eoman patronage, as afterwards under 
the direct government of Eome, it was nothing but actual or 
suspected aggressions against the national faith that provoked 



STEENNESS OF THE JEWISH FAITH. 529 

the loudest murmurs or the most determiued opposiMon. It 
was this faith which had upheld the Jews in their heroic revolt 
against Syrian innovatioDS. It was this which inspired them to 
support every offshoot of the Asmoneau family against the 
odious Herod. It was this which led them to entreat of Pom- 
pey that he would abstain from the violation of the temple; to 
implore Caligula, at the peril of their lives, not to force his 
statue upon them ; to raise tumults under Cumanus, and finally 
to burst the bonds of their allegiance to Eome under Gessius 
Florus. It was this which sustained the war that followed upon 
that outbreak — a war in which even the unconquerable power 
of the- Eoman Empire quailed before the unrivaled skill and 
courage of this indomitable race; a war of which I do not hesi- 
tate to say that it is probably the most wonderful, the most 
heroic, and the most daring which an oppressed people has 
ever waged against its tyrants. 

But against such discipline as that of Eome, ana sucn generals 
as Vespasian and Titus, success, however brilliaDt, could be but 
momentary. The Jewish insurrection was quelled in blood, and 
the Jewish nationality was extinguished — never to revive. One 
more desperate effort was indeed made; once more the best 
legions and the best commanders of the Empire were put in 
requisition; once more the hopes of the people were inflamed, 
this time by the supposed appearance of the Messiah, only to 
be doomed again to a still more cruel disai:)pointment. Jerusa- 
lem was razed to the ground; Aelia Capiloliua took its place; 
and on the soil of Aelia Cnpitolina no Jew might presume to 
trespass. But if the trials imposed on the faith of this devoted 
race by the Eomans Avere hard, they were still insignificant 
compared to those which it had to bear from the Christian 
nations who inherited from them the dominion of Europe. These 
nations considered the misfortunes of the Jews as proceeding 
from the divine vengeance on the crime they had commiited 
against Christ; and lest this vengeance should fail to take 
effect, they made themselves its willing instruments. No injus- 
tice and no persecution could be too bad for those whom God 
himself so evidently hated. Besides, the Jews had a miserable 
habit of acquiring wealth; and it- was convenient to those who 
did not share their ability or their industry to i^lunder thom 



530 HOLY BOOKS, OR BIBLES, 

from time to time. But the Jewish race and the Jewish religion 
survived it all. Tormented, tortured, robbed, put to death, 
hunted from clime to clime; outcasts in every land, strangers 
in every refuge, the tenacity of their character was proof against 
every trial, and superior to every temptation. In this unequal 
combat of the strong against the weak, the synagogue has 
fairly beaten the Church, and has" vindicated for itself that 
liberty which during centuries of suffering its enemy refused to 
grant. Eighteen hundred years have passed since the soldiers 
of Titus burned down the temple, laid Jerusalem in ashes, and 
scattered to the winds the remaining inhabitants of Judea; but 
the religion of the Jews is unshaken still; it stands uncon- 
quered and unconquerable, whether by the bloodthirsty fury of 
the legions of Eome, or by the still more bloodthirsty intoler- 
ance of the ministers of Christ. 

Subdivision I. — Tlie Historical Books. 

It is scarcely necessary to say that no complete account of 
the contents of the Old Testament can be attempted here. To 
accomplish anything like a full description of its various parts, 
and to discuss the numerous critical questions that must arise 
in connection with such a description, would in itself require a 
large volume. In a treatise on comparative religion, anything 
of this kind would be out of place. It is mainly in its compar- 
ative aspect that we are concerned with the Bible. Hence many 
very interesting topics, such, for instance, as the age or author- 
ship of the several books, must be passed over in silence. 
Tempting as it may be to turn aside to such inquiries, they 
have no immediate bearing on the subject in hand. Wlratever 
may be the ultimate verdict of Biblical criticism respecting 
them, the conclusions here reached will remain unaffected. All 
that I can do is to assume without discussion the results ob- 
tained by the most eminent scholars, in so far as they appear 
to me likely to be permanent. That the Book of Genesis, for 
example, is not the work of a single writer, but that at least 
two hands may be distinguished in it; that the Song of Solomon 
is, as explained both by Kenan and Ewald, a drama, and not 
an effusion of piety; that the latter part of Isaiah is not written 



THE HEBREW COSMOGONY. 631 

by the same prophet who composed the former, —are conclu- 
sions of criticism which I venture to think may now be taken 
for granted and made tlie basis of further reasoning. At the 
same time I have talcen for granted— not as certain, but as 
likely to be an approximation to the truth — the chronological 
arrangement of the prophets proposed by Ewald in his great 
work on that portion of Scripture. Further than this, I believe 
there are no assumptions of a critical character in the ensuing 
pages. 

First, then, it is to be observed that the problems which 
occupied the writers of the Book of Genesis, and which in their 
own fashion they attempted to solve, were the same as those 
which in all ages have engaged the attention of thoughtful men, 
and which have been dealt with in many other theologies be- 
sides that of the Hebrews. The Hebrew solution may or may 
not be superior in simplicity or grandeur to the solutions of 
Parsees, Hindus, and others; but the attempt is the same in 
character^ even if the execution be more successful. The 
authors of Genesis endeavor especially to account for: — 

1. The Creation of the Univeese. 

2. The Origin of Man and Animals. 

3. The Introduction of Evil. 

4. The Diversity of Languages. 

Although the fourth of these questions is, so far as I am 
aware, not a common subject of consideration in popular 
mythologies, the first three are the standard subjects of primi- 
tive theological speculation. Let us begin with the Creation. 

One of the earliest inquiries that human beings address 
themselves to when they arrive at the stage of reflection is : — 
How did this world in which we find ourselves come into being? 
Out of what elements was it formed ? Who made it, and in 
what way ? A natural and obvious reply to such an inquiry is, 
that a Being of somewhat similar nature to their own, though 
larger and more powerful, took the materials of which the world 
is formed and moulded them, as a workman moulds the mate- 
rials of his handicraft, into their present shape. The mental 
process gone through in reaching this conclusion is simply that 
of pursuing a familiar analogy in such a manner as to bring 



532 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

the unknown within the range of conceptions applicable to the 
known. The solution, as will be seen shortly, contrives to sat- 
isfy one-half of the problem only by leaving the other half out 
of consideration. This difQculty, however, does not seem to 
have occurred to the ancient Hebrew writers who propounded 
the following history of the Creation of the Universe: — 

"In the beginning," they say, "God created the heavens 
and the earth. And the earth was desolate and waste, and 
darkness on the face of the abyss, and the Spirit of God hover- 
ing on the face of the waters. And God said: Let there be 
light, and there was light. And God saw the light that it was 
good, and God divided between the light and the darkness. 
And God called the light Day, and the darkness he called 
Night. And it was Evening, and it was Morning: one day. 

"And God said: Let there be a vault for separation of the 
waters, and let it divide between waters and waters." Hereupon 
he made the vault, and separated the waters above it from those 
below it. The vault he called Heavens. This was his second 
day's work. On the third, he separated the dry land from the ' 
sea, '*and saw that it was good;" besides which he caused the 
earth to bring forth herbs and fruit-trees.. "And God said: 
Let there be lights in the vault of the heavens to divide between 
the day and between the night, and let them be for signs and 
for times and for days and for years." Hereupon he made the 
sun for the day, the moon for the night, and the stars. "And 
God put them on the vault of the heavens to give light to the 
earth, and to rule by day and by night, and to separate between 
the light and the darkness; and God saw that it was good. 
And it was evening, and it was morning; the fourth day" (Gen. 
i. 1-19). 

Let us pause a moment here before passing on to the next 
branch of the subject: the creation of animals and man. The 
author had two questions before him ; how the materials of the 
universe came into being, and how, when in being, they assumed 
tlieir present forms and relative positions. Of the first he says 
nothing, unless the first verse be taken to refer to it. But this 
can scarcely be; for the expression, "God made the heavens 
and the earth," cannot easily be supposed to refer to the origi- 
nal production of the matter out of which the heavens and the 



LEGENDS SIMILA.R TO THE HEBREW. 533 

earth were subsequently- made. Eather must we take it as a 
short heading, refering to the creation which is about to be 
described. And in any case, the manner in which there came 
to be anything at all out of which heavens and earth could be 
constructed is not considefed. We are left apparently to sup- 
pose that matter is coeval with the Deity; for the author never 
faces the question of its origin, which is the real difficulty in 
all such cosmogonies as his, but hastens at once to the easier 
task of describing the separation and classification of materials 
already in existence. 

Somewhat similar to the Hebrew legend, both in what it 
records and in what it omits, is the story of creation as told by 
the Quiches in America: — 

*' This is the first word and the first speech. There were neither 
men nor brutes, neither birds, fish, nor crabs, stick nor stone, valley nor 
mountain, stubble nor forest, nothing but the sky; the face of the land 
was hidden. There was naught but the silent sea and the sky. There 
was nothing joinedj nor any sound, nor thing that stirred; neither any 
to do evil, nor to rumble in the heavens, nor a walker on foot; only the 
silent waters, only the pacified ocean, only it in its calm. Nothing was 
but stillness, and rest, and darkness, and the night; nothing but the 
Maker and Moulder, the Hurler, the Bird- Serpent " (M. N. W., p. 196. 
— Popol Vuh, p. 7). 

Another cosmogony is derived from the Mixtecs, also aborig- 
ines of America : — 

"In the year and in the day of clouds, before ever were either years 
or days, the world lay in darkness; all things were orderless, and a 
water covered the slime and the ooze that the earth then was " (M. K. 
W., p. 196). 

Two winds are in this myth the agents employed to effect 
the subsidence of the waters, and the appearance of dry land. 
In another account, related by some other tribes, the muskrat 
is the instrument which divides the land from the waters. These 
myths, as Mr. Brinton, who has collected them, truly remarks, 
are "not of a construction, but a reconstruction only, and are 
in that respect altogether similar to the creative myth of the 
first chapter of Genesis." 



534 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

In the Buddhistic history of the East Mongols, the creation 
of the world is made, as in Genesis, the starting-point of the 
relation. But the creative forces in this mythology are appar- 
ently supposed to be inherent in primeval matter. Hence we 
have a Lucretian account of the movements of the several parts 
of the component mass without any consideration of the ques- 
tion how' the impulse to these movements was originally given. 
*' In the beginning there arose the external reservoir from three 
different masses of matter; namely, from the creative air, from 
the waving water, and from the firm, plastic earth.'* A strong 
wind from ten-quarters now brought about the blue atmosphere. 
A large cloud, pouring down continuous rain, formed the sea. 
Dry land arose by means of grains of dust collecting on the 
surface of the ocean, like cream on milk."* 

Although the sacred writings of the Parsees contain tio con- 
nected account of the creation, yet this void is fully supplied 
by traditions which have acquired a religious sanction, and have 
entered into the popular belief. These traditions are found in 
the Bundehesh and the Shahnahmeh, works of high authority 
in the Parsee system. According to them, Ahura-Mazda, the 
good principle, induced his rival, Agra-Mainyus, the evil prin- 
ciple, to enter into a truce of nine thousand years, foreseeing 
that by means of this interval he would be able to subdue him 
in the end. Agra-Mainyus, having discovered his blunder, went 
to the darkest hell, and remained there three thousand years. 
Ahura-Mazda took advantage of this repose to create the mate- 
rial world. He produced the sky in forty-five days, the water in 
sixty, the earth in seventy-five, the trees in thirty, the cattle in 
eighty, and human beings in seventy-five; three hundred and 
sixty-five days were thus occupied with the business of crea- 
tion. It will be observed that, though the time taken is longer, 
the order of production is the same in the Parsee as in the 
Hebrew legend. This fact tends to confirm the supposition, 
which will hereafter appear still more probable, of an intimate 
relation between the two. 

* Gesehiehte der Ost-Mongolen und ihres Furstenhauses Vcrfasst von 
Ssanang Ssetsen Chungtaidschi. Aus dem Mongolischen ubersetzt von J. 
J. Schmidt, St. Petersburg. 1829. 4to. p. 3. 

Tljis work will, in the following pages, always be referred to under 
" G. 0. M." 



PABSEE AND HEBREW COSMOGONY AKIN. 535 

Always prone to speculation, the Hindus were certain to find 
in the dark subject of creation abundant materials for their 
mystic theories. Various explanations are accordingly given in 
the Rig-Veda. Thus, the following account is found in the 
tenth Book: — 

"Let us, in chanted hymns, with praise, declare the births of the 
gods, — any of us who in this latter age may behold them. Biah- 
manaspati blew forth these births like a blacksmith. In the earliest 
age of the gods, the existent sprang from the non-existent: there- 
after the regions sprang from Uttanapad. The earth sprang from Utta- 
napad, from the earth sprang the regions: Daksha sprang from Aditi, 
and Aditi from Daksha. Then the gods were born, and drew forth the 
sun, which was hidden in the ocean" (O. S. T,, vol. v. p. 48. — Rig- 
Veda, X. 72). 

With higher wisdom, another Vaidik Rishi declares it impos- 
sible to know the origin of the universe : — 

*' There was then neither non-entity nor entity: there was no atmos- 
phere, nor sky above. What enveloped [all] ? Where, in the receptacle 
of what, [was it contained]? Was it water, the profound abyss ? 
Death was not then, nor immortality; there was no distinction of day 
or night. That One breathed calmly, self -supported; there was nothing 
different from, or above, it. In the beginning darkness existed, envel- 
oped in darkness. All this was nndistinguishable water. That One 
which lay void, and wrapped in nothingness, was developed by the 
power of fervor. Desire first arose in It, which was the primal germ of 
mind; [and which] sages, searching with their intellect, have discovered 
in their heart to be the bond which connects entity with non-entity. 
The ray [or cord] which stretched across these [worlds], was it below or 
was it above? There were there impregnating powers and mighty 
forces, a self-supporting principle beneath, and energy aloft. Who 
knows, who here can declare, whence has sprung, whence, this crea- 
tion? The gods are subsequent to the development of this [universe]; 
who then knows whence it arose? From what this creation arose, and 
whether [any one] made it or not, he who in the highest heaven is its 
ruler, he verily knows, or even he does not know" (O. S. T., vol. v. 
p. 356.— Rig- Veda, x. 129). 



536 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

A later narrative ascribes creation to the god Prajapati, who, 
it is said, having the desire to multiply himself, underwent the 
requisite austerities, and then produced earth, air, and heaven 
(A. B., vol. ii. p. 372). 

\ye now return to Genesis, which proceeds to its second 
problem: the creation of living creatures and of man. This is 
solved in two distinct fashions by two different writers. The 
first relates that on the fifth day God said, " Let the waters 
swarm with the swarming of animals having life, and let birds 
fly to and fro on the earth, on the face of the vault of the 
heavens." Having thus produced the inhabitants of the ocean 
and air on the fifth day, he produced those of earth on the 
sixth. On this day too he made man in his own image, and 
created them male and female. Xtte whole of his work was 
now finished, and on the seventh day he enjoyed repose, from 
his creative exertions, for which reason he blessed the seventh 
day (Gen. 1-ii. 3). 

Here the first account of creation ends; the second begins 
with a descriptive title at the fourth verse of the second chap- 
ter. The writer of this version, unlike his predecessor, instead 
of ascribing the creation of man to the immediate fiat of 
Elohim, describes the process as resembling one of manufacture. 
God formed the human figure out of the dust of the earth, and 
then blew life into it, a conception drawn from the widespread 
notion of the identity of breath with life. Again the narrator 
of the second story varies from the narrator of the first about 
the creation of the sexes. In the first, the male and female are 
made together. In the second, a deep sleep falls upon the man, 
during which God takes out a rib from his side and makes the 
woman out of it. Generally speaking, it may be remarked that 
the former writer moves in a more transcendental sphere thaa 
the latter. He likes to conceive the origin of the world, with 
all its flora and all its fauna, as arising from the simple power 
of the word of God. How they arise he never troubles himself 
to say. The latter is more terrestrial. God with him is like a 
powerful artist; extremely skilled indeed in dealing with his 
materials, hut nevertheless obliged to adapt his proceedings to 
their nature and capabilities. This author delights in the con- 



HEBREW MYTH OF THE ORIGIN OF EVIL. 537 

Crete and particuLir ; and not only does he aim at relating: the 
order of the creation, but also at making the modus operandi 
more or less intelligible to his hearers. 

A somewhat different account of the origin of man is given 
in the traditions of Samoa, one of the Fiji islands. These tradi- 
tions also describe an epoch when the earth was covered with 
water. "Tangalor^, the great Polynesian Jupiter," sent his 
daughter to find a dry place. After a long time she found a 
rock. In subsequent visits she reported that the dry land was 
extending. "He then sent her down with some earth and a 
creeping plant, as all was barren rock. She continued to visit 
the earth and return to the skies. Next visit, the plant was 
spreading. Next time, it was withered and decomposing. Next 
visit, it swarmed with worms. And the next time, the worms 
had become men and women! A strange account of man's 
origin!" On which it may be remarked, as a curious psycholog- 
ical phenomenon, tending to illustrate the effects of habit, that 
the missionary considers it "a strange account of man's origin" 
which represents God as making him from worms,, but readily 
accepts another in which he is made out of dust. 

The third question dealt with in Genesis is that of the origin 
of evil. This is a problem which has engaged the attention and 
perplexed the minds of many inquirers besides these ancient 
Hebrews, and for which most religions provide some kind of 
solution. The manner in which it is treated here is as fol- 
lows :— 

TVhen God made Adam, he placed him in a garden full of 
delights, and especially distinguished by the excellence of its 
fruit-trees. There was one of these trees, however, the fruit of 
which he did not wish Adam to eat. He accordingly gave him 
strict orders on the subject in these words : " Of every tree of 
the garden thou mayst eat; but of the tree of knowledge of 
good and evil, of that thou mayst not eat, for on what day thou 
eatest thereof, thou diest the death " (Gen. ii. 16, 17). This 
order we must suppose to have been imparted by Adam to Eve, 
who was not produced until after it had been given. At any 
rate, we find her fully cognizant of it in the ensuing chapter, 
where the serpent appears upon the scene and endeavors, only 
too successfully, to induce her to eat the fruit. After yielding 



538 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

to the temptation herself, she induced her husband to do the 
lilce; whereupon both recognized the hitherto unnoticed fact of 
their nudity, and made themselves aprons of fig-leaves. Shortly- 
after this crisis in their lives God came down to enjoy the cool 
of the evening in the garden; aad Adam and Eve, feeling their 
guilt, ran to hide themselves among the trees. God called 
Adam, and the latter replied that he had hidden himself 
because he was naked. But God at once asked who had told 
him lie was naked. Had he eaten of the forbidden tree ? Of 
course Adam and Eve had to confess, and God then cursed the 
serpent for his gross misconduct, and punished the man by im- 
posing labor upon him, and the woman by rendering her liable 
to the pains of childbirth. He also condescended so far as to 
become the first tailor, making garments of skins for Adam and 
Eve. But though he had thus far got the better of them by 
his superior strength, he was not without apprehension that 
they might outwit him still. "And God, the Everlasting, 
spoke : See, the man is become as one of us, to know good and 
evil ; and now, lest he should stretch out his hand and take also 
of the tree of life, and eat and live forever! Therefore God, the 
Everlasting, sent him out of the garden of Eden, to cultivate 
the ground from which he had been taken " (Gen. iii. 22, 23). 
And in order to make quite sure that the man should not get 
hold of the tree of lite, a calamity which would have defeated 
his intention to make him mortal, he guarded the approach to 
it by means of Cherubim, posted as sentinels with the flam.e of 
a sword that turned about. In this way he conceived that he 
had secured himself against any invasion of his privilege of 
immortality on the part of the human race. 

Like the myth of creation, the myth of a happier and 
brighter age, when men did not suffer from any of the evils 
that oppress them now, is common, if not universal. Common 
too, if not equally common, is the notion that they fell from 
that superior state by contracting the stain of sin. I need 
scarcely refer to the classical story of a golden age, embodied 
by Hesiod in his *' Works and Days," nor to the fable of Pan- 
dora allowing the ills enclosed in the box to escape into the 
world. But it may be of interest to remark, that the concep- 
tion of a Paradise was no less familiar to the natives of Amer- 



TRADITIONS OF A GOLDEN AGE. 539 

ica than to those of Europe. "When Christopher Columbus," 
observes Brinton, "fired by the hope of discovering this terres- 
trial paradise, broke the enchantment of the cloudy sea and 
found a new v^rorld, it was but to light upon the same race of 
men, deluding themselves with the same hope of earthly joys, 
the same fiction of a long-lost garden of their youth " (M. N. 
W., p. 87). Elsewhere he says: "Once again, in the legends of 
the Mixtecas, we hear the old story repeated of the garden 
where the first two brothers dwelt. . . . ' Many trees were 
there, such as yield flowers and roses, very luscious fruits, 
divers herbs, and aromatic spices ' " (M. N. W., p. 90). Cor- 
responding to the golden age among the Greeks was the Parsee 
conception of the reign of Yima, a mythological monarch, who 
was in immediate and- friendly intercourse with Ahura-Mazda. 
Yima's kingdom is thus described in the Vendidad: "There 
was there neither quarreling not disputing; neither stupidity 
nor violence; neither begging nor imposture; neither poverty 
nor illness. No unduly large teeth; no form that passes the 
measure of the body; none of the other marks, which are marks 
of Agra-Mainyus, that he has made on men" (Av., vol. i. p. 76. 
— Vendidad, Fargard ii. 116 ff). In another passage, found in 
the Khorda-Avesta, not only is the happiness of Yima's time 
depicted, but it is also distinctly asserted that he fell throjjgh 
sin. " During his rule there was no cold, no heat, no old age, 
no death, no envy created by the Devas, on account of the 
absence of lying, previously, before he (himself) began to 
love lying, untrue speeches. Then, when he began to love 
lying, untrue speeches. Majesty fled from him visibly with the 
body of a bird" (Av., vol. iii. p. 175 — Khorda-Avesta, xxxv 
32, 34). 

More elaborately than in any of these systems is the fall of 
man described in the mythology of Buddhism. In this religion, 
as in that of the Jews, man is of divine origin, though after a 
somewhat different fashion. A spiritual being, or god, fell from 
one of the upper spheres, to be born in the world of man. 
Through the progressive increase of this being arose '• the s x 
species of living creatures in the three worlds." The most emi- 
nent of these species, Man, enjoyed an untold duration of life 
(another point in which Buddhistic legends resemble those of 



540 HOLY BOOKS, OR BIBLES. 

the Hebrews). Locomotion was carried on through the air; 
they did not consume impure terrestrial food, but lived on 
celestial victuals; and propagation, since ther'e was no distinc- 
tion of sex, was carried on by means of emanation. They did 
not require sun or moon, for they saw by their own light. 
Alas! one of these pure beings was tempted by a fool called 
earth-butter and ate it. The rest followed its exam^e. Here- 
upon the heavenly food vanished; the race lost their power of 
going about the sky, and ceased to shine by their own light. 
This was the origin of the evil of the darkening of the mind. 
As a consequence of these deeds, sun, moon, and stars appeared. 
Still greater calamities were in store for men. Another, at an- 
other time, ate a different kind of food, an example again fol- 
lowed by the rest. In consequence of this, the distinctions of 
sex were established in them ; passion arose ; they began |:o be- 
get children. This was the origin of the evil of sensual love. 
On a further occasion, one of them ate wild rice, and all lived 
for a time on wild rice, gathered as it was needed for immedi- 
ate consumpti(in. But when some foolish fellow took it into his 
head to collect enough for the following day, the rice ceased to 
grow without cultivation. This was the origin of the evil of 
idle carelessness. It being now necesssary to cultivate rice, 
persons began to appropriate and quarrel about land, and even 
to kill one another. This was the origin of the evil of 
anger. Again, some who were better off hid their stores from 
those who were not so well off. This was the origin of the evil 
of covetousness. In course of time the age of men began to 
decline so as to be expressible in numbers. It continues grad- 
ually to decline until a turning-point arrives, at which it again 
increases (G. O. M., p. 5-9). 

Several points of similarity between the Hebrew myth and 
that just narrated will doubtless occur to the reader. The fall 
of man. is due, in this, as in Genesis, to the eating of a peculiar 
food by a single person; and this example is followed, in the 
one case, by the only other inhabitant; in the other, by all. 
The calamity thus entailed does not terminate in the loss of 
former pleasures, but extends to the introduction of crime and 
sexual relations. Eve is cursed by having to bear children; the 
same misfortune happened to the Buddhist women. Cain quar- 



OniOm 01* LANGUAGES. 541 

reled with Abel and killed him ; so did the landed proprietors 
in the Indian legend quarrel with and kill one another. 

The fourth question which appeared to have en<?aged the 
attention of the authors of Genesis was that of the variety of 
languages. How was it, if all mankind were descended from a 
single pair, and if again all but the Noachian family had been 
drowned, that they did not all speak the pure language in 
which Adam and Eve had conversed with their Creator in Par- 
adise? Embarrassed by their own theories, the writers attempted 
to account for the phenomenon of the diverse modes of speech 
in use among men by an awkward myth. Men had determined 
to build a town, with a tower which should reach to heaven. 
Jehovah, however, came down one day to see what they were 
about, and was filled with apprehension that, if they succeeded 
in this undertaking, he might find it impossible to prevent them 
from carrying out their wishes in other ways also, whatever 
those wishes might be. So he determined to confound their 
language, that they might not understand one another, and by 
this happy contrivance put an end to the construction of the 
dangerous tower (Gen. xi. 1-9). 

We have anticipated the course of the narrative in order to 
consider the solutions offered in Genesis of the four principal 
problems with which it attempts to deal. We must now return 
to the point at which we left the parents of the race, namely, 
immediately after their expulsion from Eden. They now began 
to beget children rapidly; and Adam's eldest son, Cain, after- 
wards killed his second son, Abel, for which Jehovah cursed 
him as he had previously cursed his parents. Adam and Eve 
had several other children, and (though this is nowhere ex- 
pressly stated, but only implied) the brothers and sisters united 
in marriage to carry out the propagation of the species. In 
course of time, however, the "sons of God" began to admire 
the beauty of the "daughters of men," and to take wives from 
among them. Jehovah, indignant at such a scandal, fixed the 
limits of man's life — which had hitherto been measured by 
centuries — at 120 years. At the same time there were giants on 
earth. Now Jehovah saw that the human race was extremely 
wicked, so much so, that he began to wish he had never created 
it. To remedy this blunder, however, he determined to destroy 



542 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

it; and in order that the improvement should be thorough, to 
destroy along with it all cattle, creeping things, and birds, who 
had not (so far as we are aware,) entered into the same kind 
of irregular alliances with other species as men. Nevertheless, 
he had still a lingering fondness for his handiwork, badly as it 
had turned out; and therefore determined to preserve enough 
of each kind of animal, man included, to carry on the breed 
without the necessity of resorting a second time to creation. 
Acting upon this resolve, he ordered an individual named Noah 
to build an ark of gopher-wood, announcing that he would 
shortly destroy all flesh, but wished to save Noah and his three 
sons, with their several wives. He also desired him to take two 
members of each species of beasts and birds, or, according to 
another account, seven of each clean beast and bird, and two 
of each unclean beast; but in any case taking care that 'each 
ses should be represented in the ark. When Noah had done all 
this, the waters came up from below and down from above, and 
there was an increasing flood for forty days. All terrestrial life 
but that which floated in the ark was destroyed. At last the 
waters began to ebb, and finally the ark rested on the 17th day 
of the 7th month on Mount Ararat. After forty more days Noah 
sent out a raven and a dove, of which only the dove returned. 
In seven days he sent the dove again, and it returned, bringing 
an olive-leaf; and after another week, when he again sent it 
out, it returned no more. It was not, however, till the 27th of 
the 2d month of the ensuing year (these chroniclers being very 
exact about dates) that the earth was dried, and that Noah and 
his party were able to quit the ark. To commemorate the 
goodness of God in drowning all the world except himself and 
his family, Noah erected an altar and offered burnt-offerings of 
every clean beast and every clean fowl. The effect was instan- 
taneous. So pleased was Jehovah with the "pleasant smell," 
that he resolved never to destroy all living beings again, though 
still of opinion that "the imagination of man's heart is evil 
from his youth" (Gen. vi. 7, 8). 

The myth of the deluge is very general. The Hebrews have 
no exclusive property in it. Many different races relate it in 
different ways. We may easily suppose that the partial deluges 
to which they must often have been witnesses suggested the 



FLOOD -MYTHS OF OTHER NATIONS. 543 

notion of a universal deluge, in which not only a few tribes or 
villages perished, but all the inhabited earth was laid under 
water; or the memory of some actual flood of unusual dimen- 
sions may have survived in the popular mind, and been handed 
down with traits of exaggeration and distortion such as are 
commonly found in the narratives of events preserved by oral 
tradition. Let us examine a few instances of the flood-myth. 

The Fijians relate that the god " Degei was roused every 
morning by the cooing of a monstrous bird," but that two 
young men, his grandsons, one day accidentally killed and 
buried it. Degei having, after some trouble, found the dead 
body, determined to be avenged. The youths "took refuge 
with a powerful tribe of carpenters," who built a fence to keep 
out the god. Unable to take the fence by storm, Degei brought 
on heavy floods, which rose so high that his grandsons and 
their friends had to escape in "large bowls that happened to 
be at hand." They landed at various places; but it is said that 
the two tribes became extinct (Viti, p. 394). 

The Greenlanders have "a tolerably distinct tradition" of 
a flood. They say that all men were drowned excepting one. 
This one beat with his stick upon the ground and thereby pro- 
duced a woman (GrSnland, p. 246). 

Kamtschatka has a somewhat similar legend, except that it 
admits a larger number of survivors. Very many, according to 
this version, were drowned, and the waves had sunk those who 
had got into boats; but others took refuge in rafts, binding the 
trees together to make them. On these they saved themselves 
with their provisions and all their property. When the waters 
subsided, the rafts remained on the high mountains (Kamt- 
schatka, p. 273). 

Among the North Americans " the notion of a universal del- 
uge" was, in the time of the Jesuit De Charlevoix, "rather 
wide-spread." In one of their stories, told by the Iroquois, all 
human beings were drowned; and it was necessary, in order to 
re-populate the earth, to change animals into men (N. F., vol. 
iii. p. 345). 

The Tupis of Brazil are supposed to be named after Tupa, 
the first of men, "who alone survived the flood" (M. N. W., 
p. 185). Again, " the Peruvians imagined that two destructions 



544 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

had taken place, the first by a famine, the second by a flood; 
according to some a few only escaping, but, after the more 
widely accepted opinion, accompanied by the absolute exiirpa- 
tion of the race." The present race came from eggs dropped 
oat of heaven (Ibid., p. 213). Several other tribes relate in 
diverse forms this world-wide story. In one of the versions, 
found in an old Mexican work, a man and his wife are saved, 
by the directions of their god, in a hollow cypress. In another, 
the earth is destroyed by water, because men " did not think 
nor speak of the Creator who had created them, and who had 
caused their birth." "Because they had not thought of their 
Mother and Father, the Heart of Heaven, whose name is Hura- 
kan, therefore the face of the earth grew dark, and a pouring 
rain commenced, raining by day, raining by night" (Ibid., p. 
206 £D. ' 

The diluvian legend appears in a very singular form in India 
in the Satapatha Brahmana. There it is stated, that in the 
basin which was brought to Manu to wash his hands in, there 
was one morning a small fish. The fish said to him, "Preserve 
me, I shall save thee." Manu inquired from what it would save 
him. The fish replied that it would be from a flood which 
would destroy all creatures. It informed Manu that fishes, 
while small, were exposed to the risk of being eaten by other 
fishes; he was therefore to put it first into a jar; then when it 
grew too large for that, to dig a trench and keep it in that; 
that when it grew too large for the trench, to carry it to the 
ocean. Straightway it became a large fish, and said: *'Now in 
such and such a year, then the flood will come; thou shalt 
therefore construct a ship, and resort to me; thou shalt embark 
in the ship when the flood rises, and I shall deliver thee from 
it." Manu took the fish to the sea, and in the year that had 
been named, "he constructed a ship and resorted to him. 
When the flood rose, Manu embarked in the ship. The fish 
swam towards him. He fastened th^ cable of the ship to the 
fish's horn. By this means he passed over this northern moun- 
tain. The fish said, * I have delivered thee ; fasten the ship to 
a tree. But lest the water should cut thee off whilst thou art 
on the mountain, as much as the water subsides, so much shalt 
thou descend after it.' He accordingly descended after it as 



STORY OF THE OFFERING UP OF ISAAC. 545 

much (as it subsided). . . . Now the flood had swept away 
all these creatures; so Manu alone was left here' (O. S. T., 
vol. i. p. 183). The story goes on to relate that Manu, being 
quite alone, produced a woman by "arduous religious rites," 
and that with this woman, who called herself his daughter, 
"he begot this offspring, which is this offspring of Manu," that 
is, the existing human race. 

After the flood, the history proceeds for some time to narrate 
the lives of a series of patriarchs, the mythological ancestors 
of the Hebrew race. Of these the flrst is Abram, afterwards 
called Abraham ; to whom a solemn promise was made that he 
was to be the progenitor of a great nation ; that Jehovah would 
bless those who blessed him, and curse those who cursed 
him; and that in him all generations of the earth should be 
blessed (Gen. xii. 1-3). When Abraham visited Egypt, he de- 
sired his wife Sarah to call herself his sister, fearing lest the 
Egyptians should kill him for her sake. She did so, and was 
taken into Pharaoh's harem in consequence of her false state- 
ment; but Jehovah plagued Pharoah and his house so severely 
that the truth was discovered, and Sarah was restored to her 
law^l husband. It is remarkable that Abraham is stated to 
have subsequently repeated the same contemptible tricky this 
time alleging by way of excuse that Sarah really was his step- 
sister; and that Abraham's son, Isaac, is said to have done the 
same thing in reference to Kebekah (Gen. xii. 10-20, xx., xxvi* 
6-11). Abimelech, king of Gerar, who was twice imposed upon 
by these patriarchs, must have thought it a singular custom of 
the family thus to pass off their wives as sisters. Apparently, 
too, both of them were quite prepared to surrender their con- 
sorts to the harems of foreign monarchs rather than run the 
smallest risk in their defense. 

Abraham, at ninety-nine years of age, was fortunate in all 
things but one : he had no legitimate heir. But this too was to 
be given him. Jehovah appeared to him, announced himself as 
Almighty God, and established with Abraham a solemn cove- 
nant. He promised to make him fruitful, to give his posterity 
the land of Canaan, in which he then was, and to cause Sarah 
to have a son. At the same time he desired that all males 
should be circumcized, an operation which was forthwith per- 



546 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

formed on Abraham, his illegitimate son Ishmael, and all the 
men in his house (Gen. xvii). In due time Sarah had a son 
whom Abraham named Isaac. But when Isaac was a lad, and 
all Abraham's hopes of posterity were centered in him as the 
only child of Sarah, God one day commanded him k) sacrifice 
him as a burnt-ofCering on a mountain in Moriah. Without a 
murmur, without a word of inquiry, Abraham prepared to obey 
this extraordinary injunction, and was only withheld from 
plunging the sacrificial knife into the bosom of his son by the 
positive interposition of an angel. Looking about, he perceived 
a ram caught in a thicket, and offered him as a burnt offering 
instead of Isaac. For this servile and unintelligent submission, 
he was rewarded by Jehovah with further promises as to the 
amazing numbers of his posterity in future times (Gen. xxi. 1-8; 
xxii. 1-19). 

The tradition of human sacrifice, thus preserved in the story 
of Abraham and Isaac, is found also in a curious narrative of 
the Aitareya Brahmana. That sacred book also commemorates 
an important personage, in this instance a king, who had no 
son. Although he had a hundred wives, yet none of them bore 
him a male heir. He inquired of his priest, Narada, what were 
the advantages of having a son, and learned that they were 
very great. "The father pays a debt in his son, and gains im- 
mortality," such was one of the privileges to be obtained by 
means of a son. The Eishi Narada therefore advised King 
Harischandra to pray to Varuna for a son, promising at the 
same time to sacrifice him as soon as he was born. The king 
did so. "Then a son, Eohita by name, was born to him. 
Varuna said to him, *A son is born to thee, sacrifice him to me.' 
Harischandra said, *An animal is fit for being sacrificed, when 
it is more than ten days old. Let him reach this age, then I 
will sacrifice him to thee. At ten days Varuna again demanded 
him, but now his father had a fresh excuse, and so postponed 
the sacrifice from age to age until Eohita had received his full 
armor." Varuna having again claimed him, Harischandra now 
said, "Well, my dear, to him who gave thee unto me, I will 
sacrifice thee' now.'* But Eohita, come to man's estate, had no 
mind to be sacrificed, and ran away to the wilderness. Varuna 
now caused Harischandra to suffer from dropsy. Eohita, hear- 



HUMAN SACRIFICE AND BRAHMANISM. 547 

ing of it, left the forest, and went to a village, where Tndra, in 
disguise, met him and desired him to wander. The advice was 
repeated every year until Rohita had wandered six years in the 
forest. This last year he met a poor Rishi, named Ajigarta, who 
was starving, to whom he offered one hundred cows for one of 
his three sons as a ransom for himself in the sacrifice to be 
offered to Varuna. The father having objected to the eldest, 
and the mother to the youngest, the middle one Sunahsepa, 
was agreed upon as the ransom, and the hundred cows were 
paid for him. Eohita presented to his father the boy Sunah- 
sepa, who was accepted by the god with the remark that a 
Brahman was worth more than a Kshattriya. *' Varuna then 
explained to the king the rites of the Rajasuya sacrifice, at 
which on the day appointed for the inauguration he replaced 
the (sacrificial animal) by a man." 

But at the sacrifice a strange incident occurred. No one 
could be found willing to bind the victim to the sacrificial post. 
At last his father offered to do it for another hundred cows. 
Bound to the stake, no one could be found to kill him. This 
act also his father undertook to do for a third hundred. *' He 
then whetted his knife and went to kill his son. Sunahsepa 
then got aware that they were going to butcher him just as if 
he were no man (but a beast). *Well,' said he, *I will seek 
shelter with the gods.* He applied to Prajapati, who referred hira 
to another god, who did the same; and thus he was driven from 
god to god through the pantheon, until he came to Ushas, the 
dawn. However, as he was praising Ushas, his fetters fell off, 
and Harischandra's belly became smaller; until at the last 
verse he was free, and Harischandra well." Sunahsepa was now 
received among the priests as one of themselves, and he sat 
down by Visvamitra, an eminent Rishi. Ajigarta, his father, 
requested that he might be returned to him, but Yisvamitra 
refused, **for," he said, " the gods have presented him to me." 
From that time forward he became Visvamitra's son. At this 
point, however, Ajigarta himself entreated his son to return to 
his home, and the answer of the latter is remarkable. "Sunah- 
sepa answered, 'What is not found even in the hands of a 
Shudra, one has seen in thy hand, the knife (to kill thy son); 
three hundred cows thou hast preferred to me, O Angiras. 



548 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

Ajigarta then answered, 'O my dear son! I repent of the bad 
deed I have committed; I blot out this stain! one hundred of 
the cows shall be thine!' Sunahsepa answered, 'Who once 
might commit such a sin, may commit the same another time. 
Thou art still not free from the brutality of a Shudra, for thou 
hast committed a crime for which no reconciliation exists.* 
*Yes, irreconcilable (is this act),' interrupted Yisvamitra!" (A. 
B., p. 460-469.) 

On the likeness of this story to the Hebrew legend of the 
intended sacrifice of Isaac, and on the difference between the 
two, I shall comment elsewhere. Erom the dajs of Abraham 
the history proceeds through a series of patriarchal biographies 
— those of Isaac and Kebekah, of Jacob and Eachel, of Joseph 
and his brothers — to the captivity of the Israelites in Egypt 
under the successor of the monarch whose prime minister 
Joseph had been. It is at this point that the history of the 
Hebrews as a distinct nation may be said to begin. The patri- 
archs belong to universal history. But from the days of the 
Egyptian captivity it is the fortunes of a peculiar tribe, and 
afterwards of an independent people that are followed. We have 
their deliverance from slavery, their progress through the wil- 
derness, their triumphant establishment in their destined home, 
the rise, decline, and fall of their national greatness, depicted 
with much graphic power, and intermingled with episodes of 
the deepest interest. It would not be consistent with the plan 
or limits of this work to follow the history through its varied 
details: all we can do is to touch upon it here and there, where 
the adventures, institutions, or imaginations of the Hebrews 
present points of contact with those of other nations as recorded 
m their authorized writings. 

It was only by th^ especial favor of Jehovah that the Hebrew 
slaves were enabled to escape from Egypt at all. That deity 
appointed a man named Moses as their leader; and, employing 
him as his mouthpiece, desired Pharaoh to let them go. On 
Pharaoh's refusal, he visited Egypt with a series of calamities; 
all of them inadequate to the object in view, until at length 
Pharaoh and all his army were overwhelmed in the Bed Sea, 
which had opened to allow the Israelites to pass. These last 
now escaped into the wilderness, where, under the guidance of 



THE DECALOGUE GIVEN ON SINAI. 549 

Moses, they wandered for forty years, undergoing all sorts of 
hardships, before they reached the promised land. During the 
course of their travels, Jehovah gave Moses ten commandments, 
which stand out from a mass of other injunctions and enact- 
ments, by the solemnity with which 'they were delivered, and 
by the extreme importance of their subject-matter. They are 
reported to have been given to Moses by Jehovah in person on 
Mount Sinai, in the midst of a very considerable amount of 
noise and smoke, apparently intended to be impressive. By 
these laws the Israelites were ordered — 

1. To have no other God but Jehovah. 

2. To make no image for purposes of worship, 

3. Not to take Jehovah's name in vain. 

4. Not to work on the Sabbath day. 

5. To honor their parents. 

6. Not to kin. 

7. Not to commit adultery. 

8. Not to steal. 

9. Not to bear false witness against a neighbor. 
10. Not to covet. 

Concerning these commandments, it may be observed that 
the acts enjoined or forbidden are of very different characters. 
Some of the obligations thus imposed are universally binding, 
and the precepts relating to them form a portion of universal 
ethics. Others again are of a purely special theological charac- 
ter, and have no application at all except to those who hold 
certain theological doctrines. Lastly, others command states of 
mind only, which have no proper place in positive laws enforced 
under penalties. To illustrate these remarks in detail : the four 
commandments against killing, stealing, adultery, and calumny 
are of universal obligation, and though they are far from ex- 
hausting the list of actions which a moral code should pro- 
hibit, yet properly belong to it and are among its most impor- 
tant constituents. But the first, second, third, and fourth com- 
mandments presuppose a nation believing in Jehovah as their 
God; and even with that proviso the fourth, requiring the 
observance of a day of rest, is purely arbitrary ; belonging only 



550 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

to ritual, not to morals. To place it along with prohibitions of 
murder and theft, is simply to confuse in the minds of hearers 
the all-important distinction between special observances and 
universal duties. Again, the fifth and tenth commandments 
require mere emotional conditions; respect for parents in the 
ofte case, absence of covetousness in the other. No doubt both 
these mental conditions have actions and abstinences from 
action as their correlatives; but it is with these last that law 
should deal, and not with the mere states of feeling over which 
no commandment can exercise the smallest control. Law may- 
forbid us to annoy our neighbor, or do him an injury on account 
of his wife whom we love, or his estate which we desire to pos- 
sess; but it is idle to forbid us to wish that the wife or the 
estate were ours. 

These errors are avoided in the five fundamental command- 
ments of Buddhism, which relate wholly to matters that, if 
binding upon any, are binding upon all. They are these: — 

1. Not to kill. 

2. Not to steal. 

3. Not to indulge in illicit pleasures of sex. 

4. Not to lie. 

5. Not to drink intoxicating liquors.* 

No doubt the fifth is not of equal importance with the rest; 
yet its intention is simply to put a stop to drunkenness, and 
this it accomplishes, like teetotal societies, by requiring entire 
abstinence. Probably in hot climates, and with populations 
not capable of much self-control, this was the wisest way. 
The third commandment, as I have presented it, is somewhat 
vague, but this is because the form in which it is given by the 
authorities is not always the same. Sometimes it appears as a 
mere prohibition of all unchastity; but the more probatile view 
appears to be that of Burnouf, who interprets it as directed 
against adultery, in substantial accordance with Alabaster, who 
renders it as an injunction " not to indulge the passions, so as 
to invade the legal or natural rights of other men." 

In the eight principal commandments of the Parsees, the 

* B. B., vol. i. p. 434.— Lotus, p. 447.— Wheel, p. xliii, 



MORAL LA.W OF BUDDHISM. 551 

breach of which was to be punished with death, there is the 
the same confusion of theological and natural duties as in the 
Hebrew Bible. The Parsees were forbidden — 

1. To kill a pure man {i. e. , a Parsee). 

2. To put out the fire Behram. 

3. To throw tlie impurity from dead bodies into fire or water. 
4 To commit adultery. 

5. To practice magic or contribute to its being practiced. 

6. To throw the impurity of menstruating women into fire or water. 

7. To commit sodomy with boys. 

8. To commit highway-robbery or suicide (A v. , vol. ii. p. Ix). 

Besides these commandments, Jehovah gave his people a 
vast mass of laws, amounting in fact to a complete ciiminal 
code, through his mouthpiece Moses. Among these hiws were 
those which were written on the two tables of stone, commonly 
though erroneously supposed to have been the ten command- 
ments of the twentieth chapter. The express statement of 
Exodus forbids such a supposition. It is there stated that when 
God had finished communing with Moses he gave him " two 
tables of testimony, tables of stone, written with the finger of 
God." This most valuable autograph Moses had the folly to 
break in his anger at finding that the Israelites, led by his 
brother Aaron, had taken to worshiping a golden calf in his 
absence (Ex., xxxi. 18, and xxxii, 19). God, however, desired him 
to prepare other tables like those he had destroyed, and kindly 
undertook to write upon them the very words that had been on 
the first. Apparently, however, he only dictated them to Moses, 
who is said to have written upon the tables **the words of the 
covenant, the ten commandments." What these words were 
there can be no doubt, for he had begun his address to Moses 
by saying, "Behold, I make a covenant;" and had concluded 
it by the expression, " AVrite thou these words : for after the 
tenor of these words have I made a covenant with thee and 
with Israel" (Ex. xxxiv. 1-28). Now the commandments thus 
asserted to have been written on the tables of stone were very 
different from the ten given before on Mount Sinai, and resem- 
ble more closely still the style of those quoted from the Parsee 



552 HOLY BOOKS. OB BIBLES. 

books. Yet they were evidently deemed by the writers of great 
importance, from the honor ascribed to them of having been 
originally written in God's own handwriting on stone. Their 
purport is :— 1. To forbid any covenant with the inhabitants of 
the land to which the Israelites were going, and to enjoin them 
to ''destroy their altars, break their images, and cut down their 
groves;"— 2. To require the observance of the feast of unleav- 
ened bread ;— 3. To lay claim to firstlings for Jehovah, and de- 
mand their redemption ;— 4. To command the Sabbatical rest;— 
5. To enjoin the observance of the feast of weeks ;— 6. To desire 
that all males should appear thrice yearly before the Lord;— 
7. To forbid the sacrifice of blood with leaven;— 8. To forbid 
leaving the sacrifice of the feast of the passover till morning; 
— 9. To demand the first-fruits for Jehovah;— 10. To forbid 
seething a kid in its mother's milk.* 

Eminent as Moses was, and high as he stood in the favor of 
his God, he was not permitted to lead his people to Canaan. 
Jehovah punished him for a momentary weakness by depriving 
him of that privilege, which was reserved for Joshua. Just as 
the waters of the Eed Sea were cleft in two to allow the Israel- 
ites to quit Egypt^ so were those of the Jordan cleft in two to 
allow them to enter Canaan. No sooner did the feet of the 
priests bearing the ark touch the water, than the portion of the 
river below was cut off from that above, the upper waters rising 
into a heap (Josh. iii). Striking as this miracle is, it -is not 
more so than that performed by Visvamitra, an Indian sage. 
When he arrived at a river which he desired to cross, that holy 
man said: "Listen, O sisters, to the bard who has come to you 
from afar with wagon and chariot. Sink down; become forda- 
ble; reach not up to our chariot-axles with your streams. (The 
rivers answer) : We shall listen to thy words, O bard ; thou hast 
come from far with wagon and chariot. I will bow down to 
thee like a woman with full breast (suckling her child), as a 
maid to a man will I throw myself open to thee. (Visvamitra 
says) : When the Bharatas, that war-loving tribe, sent forward, 
impelled by Indra, have crossed thee, then thy headlong current 

* My attention was drawn to the fact that these were the contents of the 
tables by Goethe's interesting essay: "Zwei wichtige, bisber unerorterte 
biblische Fragen." 



SAMUEL AND SAUL. 553 

' shall hold on its course. I seek the favor of you the adorable. 
The war-loving Bharatas have crossed ; the Sage has obtained 
the favor of the rivers. Swell on, impetuous and fertilizing; fill 
your channels; roll rapidly" (O. S. T., vol. i. p. 340). 

So that the v^ry same prodigy which, according to the Book 
of Joshua, was wrought for the benefit of the Hebrew people in 
Palestine, was, according to the Kig-Veda, wrought for the ben- 
efit of a warlike tribe in India. 

After their arrival and settlement in Palestine the Israelites 
passed through a period of great trouble and disturbance. The 
government was a direct ihoocracy; men appointed by God, 
that is, self-appointed, put themselves at the head of affairs and 
governed with more or less success under the inspiration, and In 
the name of Jehovah. During this time the people were ex- 
posed to great annoyance from their enemies the Philistines, by 
whom they were for a certain space held in subjugation. The 
legend of the national hero and deliverer, Samson, falls within 
this period of depression under a foreign yoke. Samson in the 
Jewish Herakles, and his exploits are altogether as fabulous as 
those of his Hellenic counterpart; though it is not impossible 
that such a personage as Samson may have lived and may have 
led the people with some glory against their hereditary enemies. 
Many internal disturbances contributed to render the condition 
of the Israelites under their theocracy far from enviable ; and 
at length, under the government of Samuel, the last representa- 
tive of this state of things, the people could bear their distress 
no longer and united to demand a king. The request was 
undoubtedly a wise one; for the authority of a monarch was 
eminently needed to give internal peace and protection against 
external attacks to the distracted nation. Samuel, however, 
was naturally opposed to such a change. His feelings and his 
interests were alike concerned in the maintenance of the direct 
government of Jehovah, whose plenipotentiary he was. But all 
his representations that the proposal to elect a king was a 
crime in the eyes of God, were unavailing. He. was compelled 
to yield, and selected, as the monarch appointed by Jehovah 
himself, a young man named Saul. Before long, however, Jeho- 
vah discovered that he had made a mistake, and that Saul was 
not the kind of man he had hoped tg find him, Samuel w(i>j 



554 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

therefore desired to anoint David to supplant him. In other 
words, Saul did not prove the obedient instrument which Sam- 
uel had hoped to make of him, and he therefore entered into a 
secret conspiracy to procure his deposition. The conduct of 
Saul, and his relations to David, have probably been misrepre- 
sented by the ecclesiastical historians, who persistently favor 
David. Nevertheless, they cannot wholly disguise the lawless 
and savage career of this monarch before his accession to the 
throne, of which at length he obtained possession. Nor was his 
conduct during his occupation of it altogether exemplary. He, 
however, promoted the views of the priestly party, and this was 
cDOugh to cover'a multitude of sins. 

His son Solomon who succeeded him was the most magnifi- 
cent of the monarchs of Israel and the last who ruled over the 
undivided kingdom. He was especially renowned for his wis- 
dom, which is exemplified by a famous decision., Two women 
came before him to dispute the ownership of an infant. One 
of them stated that the other, who was alone in the same 
house with her, had killed her own child by lying upon it 
during the night, and taken the living child from its mother 
while that mother was asleep. The other asserted that the living 
child was hers. Having heard the two statements, the king 
ordered the living child to be cut in two and half given to each 
woman. Hereupon the one declared that she would prefer to 
resign it altogether; but the other professed her acquiescence 
in the judgment. The king at once awarded it to her who had 
been willing to resign it rather than see it divided (1 Kings, iii. 
16-28). Equal, or perhaps even greater wisdom, was displayed 
by a monarch whose history is recorded in one of the sacred 
books of Buddhism. Two women were contending before him 
about their right to a boy. He desired each of them to take 
hold of it by one of its hands and to pull at it; the one who 
succeeded in getting it to keep it. She who was not the mother 
pulled unmercifully; whereas the true mother, though stronger 
than her rival, only pulled gently in order to avoid hurting it. 
The king perceived the truth, and adjudged it to the one who 
had pulled it gently (G. O. M., p. 344). 

Rehoboam, the son and successor of Solomon, failing to con- 
ciliate the people at his accession, brought about the schism 



JEWISH PROPHETS AND KINGS. 555 

between Samaria and Judea, between the ten tribes and the 
two, which was never afterwards healed. After this the govern- 
ment in each kingdom may be described as absolute monarchy- 
tempered by prophetical admonition. The prophets, who 
formed a kind of professional body of advisers in the interest 
of Jehovah, made it their business to reprove the crimes, and 
especially the idolatries of the kings. They exercised the kind 
of influence which a corps dixjlomatlque may sometimes exercise 
on a feeble court. The monarchs sometimes attended to their 
advice; sometimes rejected it; and they receive commendation 
or reproof at the hands of the historians according to their con- 
duct in this respect. Two of these prophets, Elijah and Elisha, 
were men of great eminence, and their aqtions are recorded at 
length. Such was the power of Elisha that when, on one occa- 
sion, he cursed some children who had called him bald head, 
she-bears came out of the wood and ate forty-two of them (2 
Kings ii. 23-25). Eespect for ecclesiastics or prophets is some- 
times inculcated by such decided measures as these. A young 
Buddhist monk once laughed at another for the alacrity with 
which he leapt over a grave, saying he was as active as a mon- 
key. The man whom he had ridiculed told him that he belonged 
to the highest rank in the Church; that is, that he was an 
Arhat. Upon hearing this the young monk was so alarmed 
that all his hair stood on end, and he begged for forgiveness. 
His repentance saved him from being born in hell; but because 
he had laughed at an Arhat he was condemned to be born 500 
times as a monkey (G. O. M., p. 351). 

Elisha's powers in other respects were not less wonderful. 
He could cause iron to swim, could foretell the course of events 
in a war, could restore the dead to life, and could smite the 
king's enemies with blindness (2 Kings vi. 7). In this last ac- 
complishment he has rivals, as Canon Callaway has correctly 
noted, among the Amazulu priests. The Amazulus have a word 
in their language to describe the practice. "It is called an 
umlingo," they say, if, when a chief is about to fight with an- 
other chief, his doctors cause a darkness to spread among his 
enemies, so they are unable to see clearly (R. S. A., vol. iii. p. 338). 
The kingdom of Israel, unfaithful to the worship of Jehovah, 
fell under the yoke of Shalraaneser, King of Assyria; while 



556 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

Judah, though attacked and summoned to submit, by his suc- 
cessor, Sennacherib (or more correctly Sanherib), remained in- 
dependent some time longer. The King of Judah was at this 
time Hezekiah, a man thoroughly imbued with the principles 
of the Jehovistic party, and therefore much lauded by the his- 
torians. The prophet of the day was Isaiah, one of the most 
eminent of those who have filled the prophetic office. Isaiah 
warmly encouraged Hezekiah to resist the designs of conquest 
cherished by Sanherib, and promised a successful issue. The 
messengers of the Assyrian monarch had insultingly reproached 
Jehovah with his inability to deliver the land, alleging that 
none of the gods of the territories which he had conquered had 
availed them anything. But a signal confutation of this pro- 
fane belief in large armies as against deities was about to be 
given, and that in a manner which gave an equally signal tri- 
umph to Jehovah, the god of the Jews, and Ptah, the ^od of 
the Egyptians. Sanherib was engaged in an expedition against 
Egypt, which was governed at this time by a priest-king, re- 
sembling Hezekiah in the piety of his character. This priest 
was in bad odor with his army, who refused to assist him 
against the invaders. During his trouble on this account, the 
god whom he served appeared to him in his sleep and promised 
that he should suffer nothing, for he would send him his divine 
assistance, just as Jehovah promised deliverance through the 
mouth of Isaiah. He therefore went with some followers to 
Pelusium, and when there, a number of field-mice, pouring in 
upon the Assyrians, devoured their quivers, their bows, and 
the handles of their shields, so that on the next day they fled 
defenseless, and many were killed. Herodotus tells us that in 
his day there was still to be- seen the statue of the .king in the 
temple of Ptah, a mouse in his hand, and this inscription: 
"AVhoever looks on me, let him revere the gods" (Herod., ii. 
141). In the Hebrew version of this catastrophe, the field-mice 
are converted into the angel ot the Lord, and the destruction 
of the weapons into the slaughter by that angel of 185,000 men. 
Sanherib, it is added, returned to Nineveh, where he was assas- 
sinated by his two sons (2 Kings xix. 35-37). But Sanherib him- 
self, in a deciphered inscription, declares that he had beaten 
the Egyptians, subjected Judea, carried off many of its inhabit- 



HEZEKIAH'S PRAYER: A PARALLEL. 557 

ants, and only left Jerusalem to the king (R. L, p. 328). Cer- 
tainly this statement is strongly confirmed, so far as Judea is 
concerned, by the admission of the historians themselves, that 
Sanherib had taken the fenced cities of the country; that Hez- 
ekiah had made an unreserved submission to him, and had 
even sent him, by way of tribute, not only all the treasures in 
his own palace and in the temple, but the very gold from the 
doors of the temple, and from the pillars which he himself had 
overlaid (2 Kings xviii. 13-16). So humiliating a position went 
far to justify the taunts of the Assyrian ambassadors, that the 
god of Judea was no more to be trusted as a defense against 
material weapons than the gods of the subjugated rial ions. 

• A remarkable instance of the favor of Heaven towards Heze- 
kiah was subsequently evinced. The king fell dangerously ill, 
and was warned by Isaiah to make the necessary arrangements 
in view of his death, which was about to happen. Hezekiah 
did not bear the announcement with much dignity. He pas- 
sionately implored Jehovah to remember his piety and good 
deeds, and then "wept sore." Moved by this pitiable supplica- 
tion, Jehovah sent Isaiah back again to promise him fifteen 
years' more life. On Hezekiah's asking for a sign that he would 
be healed, Isaiah asked him whether he would prefer that the 
shadow on the dial should advance or go back ten degrees. 
Hezekiah, thinking that it was a mere trifle for a god to cause 
it to advance, desired that it might turn backwards (2 Kings, 
XX. 1-11). 

A similar grace was shown towards King Woo in China, but 
in this case it was the prayer of others, not his own, that 
effected his recovery. His brother, the Duke of Chow, erected 
four altars, put certain symbols upon them, and addressed him- 
self to three departed kings. "The grand historian by his order 
wrote on tablets his prayer to the following effect: — "A. B., 
your chief descendant, is suffering from a severe and dangerous 
sickness; — if you three kings have in heaven the charge of 
watching over him, Heaven's great son, let me. Tan, be a substi- 
tute for his person. I have been lovingly obedient to my 
father; I am possessed of many abilities and arts which fit me 
to serve spiritual beings. Your chief descendant, on the other 
hand, has not so many abilities and arts as I, and is not so 



558 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

capable of serving spiritual beings. And, moreover, he was 
appointed in the hall of God to extend his aid to the four quar- 
ters of the empire, so that he might establish your descendants 
in this lower world. The people of the four quarters stand in 
reverent awe of him. Oh! do not let that precious heaven-con- 
ferred appointment fall to the ground, and all our former kings 
will also have a perpetual reliance and resort. I will now seek 
for your orders from the great tortoise" (C. C, vol. iii. p. 353.— 
Shoo King, part 5, book 6). After this prayer, the Duke divined 
with the tortoises, which gave favorable indications. *' The orac- 
ular responses " were favorable too. Accordingly the king recov- 
ered, but the devoted brother, though he did not die, suffered 
for some time from unjust suspicions, and retired from court. 
This was after the decease of King Woo, The discovery of the 
tablets by Woo's successor led to his restoration to favor. The 
relation of the reign of Hezekiah, one of the most inglorious 
of Judah's rulers, is an example of the use made of a theory 
which pervades and colors the whole history of the kings from 
beginning to end. That theory is, that God favored and pro- 
tected those monarchs who worshiped and obeyed his prophets, 
while he punished those who worshiped other gods and neg- 
lected his orders. The deposition of Saul, the glory of David, 
the destruction of the families of Jeroboam and Baasha, the 
miserable fate of Ahab and his seventy sons, the exaltation of 
Jehu and his milder punishment proportioned to his mitigated 
idolatry, are all examples of the prevalence of this theory. 
Some of the facts indeed were rather difficult to deal with ; such, 
for instance, as the palpable decline of Judea under Hezekiah, 
and the continuance of its previous misfortunes under Josiah, 
the most praiseworthy of the kings, who, in spite of his unri- 
valed piety, was slain in a battle against a mere pagan. But 
inconsistencies like these might be glossed over or explained 
away. The best kings might meet with the greatest calamities, 
and the people of Jehovah might prove even more unfortunate 
than the heathen. It mattered not. .They were still under his 
protection ; and if they suffered, it was because they had, not 
worshiped him enough, or not worshiped him exclusively. With 
this elastic hypothesis the key to all historical events was 
found. 



THE JEWISH THEORY OF SUCCESS. 559 

Traces of a similar theory are to be found in the sacred books 
of China, though in one instance it is placed in the mouth of a 
successful sovereign desirous of vindicating his supersession of 
a former dynasty. It is, however, precisely in such cases, where 
some David or Jehu has deposed a former monarch and taken 
his throne, that this theory is useful, transferring, as it doe?, 
the responsibility of the issue to a higher power. Thus speaks 
the Chinese king: — "I have heard the saying— 'God learls men 
to tranquil security,' but the sovereign of Hea would not move 
to such security, whereupon God sent down corrections, indi- 
cating his mind to him. Kee, however, would not be warned by- 
God, but proceeded to greater dissoluteness and sloth and 
excuses for himself. Then Heaven no longer regarded nor heard 
him, but disallowe<l his great appointment, and inflicted extreme 
punishment. Hereupon it charged your founder, T'ang the Suc- 
cessful, to set Hea aside, and by means of able men to rule 
the empire. From T'ang the Successful down to the Emperor 
Yih, every sovereign sought to make his virtue illustrious, and 
duly attended to the sacrifices. And thus it was that while 
Heaven exerted a great establishing influence, preserving and 
regulating the house of Yin, but its sovereigns on their part 
were humbly careful not to lose the favor of God, and strove 
to manifest a good-doing corresponding to that of Heaven. But 
in these times, their successor showed himself greatly ignorant 
of the ways of Heaven, and much less could it be expected of 
him that he would be regardful of the earnest labors of his 
fathers for the country. Greatly abandoned to dissolute idle- 
ness, he paid no regard to the bright principles of heaven, nor 
the awfulness of the people. On this account God no longer 
protected him, but sent down the great ruin which we have 
witnessed. Heaven was not with him because he did not seek 
to illustrate his virtue. Indeed, with regard to all states, great 
and small, throughout the four quarters of the empire, in every 
case there are reasons to be alleged for their punishment. . . 
The sovereigns of our Chow, from their great goodness, were 
charged with the work of God. There was the charge to them. 
Cut off Yin. They Tproceeded to perform it, and announced the 
correcting work of God. . . . The thing was from the decree 
of Heaven; do not resist me; I dare not have any further 



560 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

change for you'" (C. C, vol, iii. p. 460.— Shoo King, part 5, b. 
14, ii. 1-18). 

But it was not only by interested parties that this doctrine 
was proclaimed in China. The She King, a sacred book corre- 
sponding in character to the Psalms, distinctly adopts it, and 
thus gives it the highest sanction. This is the language of one 
of the Odes: — 

"Great is God, 
Beholding this lower world in majesty. 
He surveyed the four quarters [of the kingdom]. 
Seeking for some one to give settlement to the people. 
Those two [earlier] dynasties 
Had failed to satisfy him with their government; 
So throughout the various States 
He sought and considered 
For one on which he might confer the rule. 
Hating all ihe great [States], 

He turned his kind regards on the west, ■ 

And there gave a settlement [to king T'se]. . . . 
God having brought about the removal thither of this Intelligent 

ruler, 
The Kwan hordes fled away; . . . 

God, who had raised the State, raised up a proper ruler for it. . , . 
This King Ke 

Was gifted by God with the power of judgment, 
So that the fame of his virtue silently grew. 
His virtue was highly intelligent, 
Highly intelligent and of rare discrimination ; 
Able to lead; able to rule, — 
To rule over this great country; 

Eendering a cordial submission, effecting a cordial union. 
When the sway came to King WSn, 
His virtue left nothing to be dissatisfied with. 
He received the blessing of God, 
And it was extended to his descendants." 

The Ode proceeds to relate how completely victorious this 
virtuous king was over his enemies, and how perfect was the 



JEWISH VIEWS IN CHINA AND THIBET. 561 

security from invasion enjoyed by the country while he gov- 
erned it (C. C, vol. iv. p. 448. — She King-, part 3, b. 1, ode 7). 

Feelings like those that inspired the Jewish chroniclers are 
still more clearly visible in the history of Thibet than in that 
of China. Here the orthodox compilers frequently inform us 
that the reign of a king who observed the law and honored the 
clergy was distinguished in a peculiarly high degree by the pros- 
perity of the land and the happiness of its people. Of one, for 
instance, who *' entered the portals of religion" at thirty-eight 
years of age, it is noted that *'he founded the constitution of 
the whole great nation on order, and furthered its welfare and 
peace " (Gr. O. M., p. 201). His son made the whole great nation 
happy by promoting religion and the laws " (Ibid., p. 203). 
Another monarch receives a still higher panegyric. * by the 
unbounded honor he showed towards the clergy, he exalted 
religion, so that by the religious care which he bestowed on the 
inhabitants of the snow-kingdom, the welfare of the people of 
Thibet equaled that of the Tegri '* (gods or spirits). A painful 
contrast is presented by his successor on the throne, Lang- 
Dharma, who belonged to the heretical " black religion," who 
destroyed the temples of Buddhism, persecuted its adherents, 
burnt its books, and degraded its ministers. So impious v^-as he, 
that the very names of the three gems and of the four orders 
of clergy ceased to be mentioned in the land. He met, however, 
with his well-deserved punishment at the hands of a faithful 
Buddhist, who assassinated him with a bow and arrow, at the 
same time using words to the effect that, as Buddha overcame 
the unbelievers, so he had killed the wicked king (Ibid,, p. 49). 
Another king "showed respect to the hidden sanctuaries, 
whereby his power and the welfare of the land increased" 
(Ibid., p. 321). Comparable to Josiah in his piety and reverence 
for the true religion was a king whose reign is described in 
glowing language by his admiring historians. "This powerful 
ruler," they say, *' who regarded the religion of Buddha as the 
most precious gem, gave great freedoms and privileges to the 
clergy." He honored temples and respected the pious endow- 
ments of his ancestors. Not only did he punish thieves, rob- 
bers, and similar criminals, but if any man, of high or low 
position, was inimical or ill-disposed towards the faith he was 



562 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

deprived of his property and reduced to the greatest distress. 
Some of those whose heresy was visited witli this severe chas- 
tisement were so unreasonable as to grumble, and pointed out 
that it was only the clergy who werQ fattening on their misery 
and oppression. In saying this thoy pointed at the spiritual 
men who passed by; whereupon the faithful king issued a 
decree, saying, "It is strictly prohibited to look contemptuously 
at my clergy and to point at them with the finger;" whoever 
dared to do so was to have his eyes put out and his finger cut 
off. Unfortunately ''these orders of the pious king" led to the 
formation of a party of malcontents, by two of whom he was 
strangled in his sleep. The lamentations of the historian at 
this untoward event are unmeasured. The power and strength 
of the Thibetan kingdom ran away like the stream of spring 
waters ; the happiness and welfare of the people were extin- 
guished like a lamp whose oil is exhausted; the royal power 
and majesty vanished like the colors of the rainbow ; the black 
religion began to prevail like a destructive tempest; the inclin- 
ation to good dispositions and good deeds was forgotten like a 
dream. Moreover, the translation of religious writings remained 
unfinished — for this king had also resembled Josiah in his 
interest in sacred books; — and those great men who adhered 
to the true religion could only weep over its decline and fall (G. 
O. M., p. 361). 

Not less pitiable was the fate of Judea under the irreligious 
monarchs who followed upon Josiah. One was taken prisoner 
by the king of Egypt; two others were carried off to Babylon 
by Nebuchadnezzar; under the fourth, the national independ- 
ence was finally extinguished, and the people reduced to a con- 
dition of captivity in a foreign land. This calamity is distinctly 
ascribed to their neglect of the true religion, and their contempt 
for the messengers of God (2 Chron. xxxvi. 14-17). 

Strictly speaking, the history of the Jewish nation ends with 
the Captivity. iSut there are still three books of a historical 
character in the Old Testament, Ezra and Nehemiah, relating 
the fortunes of a small number of Jews who returned to the 
land of their forefathers, when a change of policy in their 
rulers rendered this return possible; and Esther, containing the 
account of the reception of a Jewish woman into the harem of 



THE STORY OF THE BOOK OF JOB. 563 

a heathen king, and showing how ably she conti ived to use her 
influence in favor of the interests of her race. 

Subdivision 2.— Job, Psalms, Proverbs, and Ecclesiastes. 

The Book of Job, the Psalms attributed to David, and the 
Proverbs and Ecclesiastes attributed to Solomon, resemble one 
another in teaching religion and morality by the method. of 
short sentences or maxims. They do not, like the books we 
have just examined, convey their moral by means of historical 
narrative ; nor do they, like the prophets, impress it in flowing 
and continuous rhetoric. Between the sober and even course of 
the history, and the impassioned emotional torrents poured out 
by the prophets, they occupy a medium position. They are 
more introspective, more occupied with feelings and reflections, 
than the first; more heedful of external nature, more able to 
contemplate facts, apart from their peculiar construction of 
those facts, than the last. 

Job is the story of a wealthy land-owner, concerning whom 
God and Satan enter into a sort of wager; God, in the first in- 
stance, challenging Satan to consider his piety and general good 
character, and Satan replying that, if only his prosperity were 
destroyed, he would curse God to his face. God then gives Sa- 
tan leave to put his theory to the test by attacks directed 
against Job's property, desiring at the same time that his per- 
son may be spared. Job bears the loss of his wealth with res- 
ignation ; but at a second colloquy Satan insinuates that his 
virtue would give way if his misfortunes extended to his person. 
Hereupon God gives Satan leave to attack him in every respect 
so long as he .spares his life. Poor Job is accordingly covered 
with boils from head to foot, and his patience, proof against 
poverty, breaks down under this terrible infliction. He loudly 
curses the day of his birth, and wishes he had died from 
the womb. After this introduction, which, in its familiar 
conversations between Jehovah and the devil, resembles the 
grotesque legends of the middle ages, the bulk of the book 
is occupied with the complaints of Job, the discourses of 
his three friends who come to comfort him, the reproaches 
directed against his self-righteousness by a person named 



564 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

Elihu, and, finally, a long address — containing as it were the 
moral of the tale — from the Almighty himself. At the close of 
the book Job expresses his abhorrence of himself and his pro- 
found repentance, and his former prosperity is then not only 
restored but amplified to a high degree. He has seven sons and 
three beautiful daughters, and dies one hundred and forty years 
after the events narrated, having seen four generations of his 
descendants. What was the effect on the mind of Satan of this 
result, whether he considered himself defeated, or whether he 
was confirmed in his malicious opinion that Job did not " fear 
God for nought," is nowhere stated.- But one of the most 
curious features of this book is the picture it gives of that per- 
son, as a being not altogether bad, though fond of mischief, 
taking a somewhat cynical view of the motives of human con- 
duct, and anxious, in the interests of his theory, to try experi- 
ments upon a subject selected for him by his antagonist, and 
therefore peculiarly likely to disappoint his expectations. It 
does not appear that he had any desire to hurt Job further 
than was necessary for his purpose, nor is there a trace of the 
bad character he subsequently obtained as a mere devil, long- 
ing to involve men's souls in eternal destruction. 

In the Psalms we have a series of religious songs of varying 
character— praising, blessing, supplicating, complaining, lament- 
ing, invoking good or evil upon others, according to the mood 
of the several writers, or of the same writer at different sea- 
sons. Some of them are of considerable beauty, and express 
much depth of religious feeling. Others, again, are inspired by 
sentiments of malevolence, and merely appeal to God in support 
of national or private animosities. As examples of the latter 
class, take the 110th Psalm, supposed to have been addressed to 
David, where it is predicted that " the Lord at the right hand 
shall strike through kings in the day of his wrath," and that 
"he shall fill the places with the dead bodies; he shall wound 
the heads over many countries." In the immediately preceding 
Psalm, the 109th, the writer is still more vindictive, and his 
enemy is more exclusively his own. He begins by calling him 
"wicked," and says he has spoken against him with a lying 
tongue, Premising that he is altogether in the act of prayer, he 
prays against the adversary in somewhat emphatic language :— 



SEBEEW PSALMS OF CUtlSlNG. 565 • 

•* Set thou a wicked man over him, and let the accuser stand at his 
right hand. When he shall be judged, let him be found guilty, and let 
his prayer become sin. Let his days be few, and let another take his 
oflfice. Let his children be fatherless, and his wife a widow. Let his 
children wander about and beg, and seek food far from their desolate 
places. Let the creditor catch all that he hath, and strangers rob the 
fruit of his industry. Let there be none to extend mercy to him, and 
let none be merciful to his fatherless children. Let his posterity be cut 
off, and in the following generation let their name be blotted out. Let 
the iniquity of his fathers be remembered with the Lord, and let jiot the 
sin of his mother be blotted out. Let them be before the Lord continu- 
ally, and let him cut off the memory of them from the earth " (Psalms 
cix. 1-15). 

In the following verse the enemy is declared to have perse- 
cuted the poor and needy, and this is put forward as the excuse 
for imprecations evidently inspired by personal ill-will. In an- 
other of these Psalms, Jehovaii is entreated to persecute the 
enemies of Israel with storm and tempest, as fires burn up 
woods and flames set mountains on fire (Psalms Ixxxiii. 14, 15). 
Elsewhere the king is said to trust in the Lord, and he there- 
fore hopes that the Lord will find out his enemies, and will 
make them as a fiery oven in the time of his anger; that the 
fire will devour them ; and that he will destroy their fruit from 
the earth and their seed from among the children of men (Ps. 
xxi. 8-10). 

Parallels to these Psalms of cursing may be met with in the 
Veda, just as the Psalms in general are more nearly paralleled 
by the Vedic hymns than by those of any other sacred book. 
One poet writes as follows : — 

" Blinded shall ye be, O enemies, like headless snakes, and thus 
plagued by Agni, may Indra always kill the best of you. Whatever 
relation troubles us, whatever stranger wishes to kill us, him may all the 
gods destroy; prayer is my powerful protection, my refuge and power- 
ful protection" (S. V., p. 297.— Sama Veda, 2. 9. 3. 8). 

Remarkably close is the similarity between the assertion of 
the Hindu Eishi that prayer is his powerful protection, and 
that of the Hebrew Psalmist that he is, or gives himself to. 



566 HOLY BOOKS. OB BIBLES.* 

prayer. In' another hymn the aid of a goddess Apva (said to 
mean "disease or fear") is invoked against the enemies of the 
singer : — 

" Bewildering the hearts of our enemies, O Apva, take possession of 
their limbs and pass onwards ; come near, burn them with fires in their 
hearts; may our enemies fall into blind darkness (O, S. T. vol. v. p. 
110). . . . Attack, ye heroes, and conquer; may Indra grant you pro- 
tection ; may our arm be productive of terror, that ye may be uncon- 
querable. Arrow-goddess, sharpened by prayer; fly past as when shot 
off; reach the enemies; penetrate into them; let not even one escape 
thee" (S. v., p. 297.— Sama Yeda, 2. 9. 3. 5). 

But these expressions of hostility, directed apparently against 
enemies who were engaged in actual war with the friends of the 
writer, make no approach in the bitterness of their curses to 
the language of the Psalmist when dealing with his personal 
foes. A parallel to this more private enmity may be found in 
the Atharva-Veda, where the god Kama is invoked to bring 
down the severest evils upon the objects of the imprecation: — 

" With oblations of butter I worship Kama, the mighty slayer of 
enemies. Do thou, when lauded, beat down my foes by tby great 
might. The sleeplessness which is displeasing to my mind and eye, 
which harrasses and does not delight me, that sleeplessness I let loose 
upon my enemy. Having praised Kama, may I rend him. Kama, do 
thou, a fierce lord, let loose sleeplessness, misfortune, childlessness, 
homelessness, and want upon him who designs us evil. . . . May 
breath, cattle, life, forsake them. . . . Indra, Agni, and Kama, 
mounted on the same chariot, hurl ye down my foes; when they have 
fallen into the nethermost darkness, do thou, Agni, burn up their dwell- 
ings. Kama, slay my enemies; cast them down down into thick [liter_ 
ally, blind] darkness. Let them all become destitute of power and 
vigor, and not live a single day. . . . Let them (my enemies) float 
downwards like a boat severed from its moorings. . . . Do thou, 
Kama, drive my enemies from this world by that [same weapon or 
amulet] wherewith the gods repelled the Asuras, and Indra hurled the 
Dasyus into the nethermost darkness" (0. S. T., vol. v. p. 404). 

As corresponding to the many expressions to be found in the 



ODE FR05I THE SHE KING. 567 

Psalms of trust in God, of pious belief in his protection, and 
of sensibility to his all-embracing linowledge, we may quote the 
language of a Chinese monarch in one of the Odes of the She 
King. The first six lines are, it appears, held by the current 
interpretation in China to contain the admonition addressed by 
the ministers to the king, and the last six the king's reply. 
But we may more reasonably suppose, with Dr. Legge, that 
the whole Ode is spoken by the king himself: — 

" Let me be reverent, let me be reverent [in attending to my duties]; 
[The way of] Heaven is evident, 
And its appointment is not easily [preserved]. 
Let me not say that It is high aloft above me. 
It ascends and descends about our doings; 
It daily inspects us wherever we are. 

I am [but as] a little child, 

Without intelligence to be reverently [attentive to my duties]; 

But by daily progress and monthly advance, 

I win learn to hold fast the gleams [of knowledge], till I arrive at 

bright intelligence. 
Assist me to bear the burden [of my position], 
And show me how to display a virtuous conduct." * 

We may fairly place this simple expression of the author's 
desire to do his duty, and of his reverential consciousness that 
Heaven is ever about us and " inspects us wherever we are," 
beside the words attributed to David : — 

" O Jehovah, thou hast searched me, and known me. Thou knowest 
my down-sitting and mine uprising, thou understandest my thought afar 
off. Thou winnowest my path and my lying down, and art acquainted 
with all my ways " (Psalm cxxxix. 1-3). 

We need not dwell upon the Proverbs, traditionally ascribed 
to Solomon, but scarcely worthy of the renowned wisdom of 
that monarch. Some of them are indeed shrewd and well ex- 
pressed; others are commonplace; and others again display 

* 0. C. vol. iv. p. 598. -She King, pnrt 4. b. i. [ill.] 3. 



56$ HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

more worldly wisdom than religion or virtue. Such is the 
recommendation of bribery: "A gift in secret pacifieth anger, 
and a reward in the bosom strong wrath" (Prov. xxi. 14); 
which, if written by a king and dispenser of justice, would be 
a tolerably broad hint to his loving subjects. It is noteworthy 
that Christ had studied this book, and that it had sunk deep 
into his mind " {E. g., Prov. xxv. 21, 22, and xxvii. 1). The two 
concluding chapters are not by the same author, at least if we 
may believe in their superscriptions. In the last of all, a king 
named Lemuel repeats for the benefit of posterity the advice 
given him by his mother, and no doubt by many mothers to 
many sons both before and after him, to be careful about 
women and not to drink wine or spirituous liquors. 

Ecclesiastes, or Koheleth, composed (according to Ewald) in 
the latter end of the Persian dominion, is the work of a cynic 
who has had much experience of the world, and has found it 
hollow and unsatisfactory. He is not a man of very devout 
mind, and can find no comfort in the ordinary commonplaces 
about the goodness of God, or the manner in which misfortunes 
are sent as punishments for sin. There is much good sense 
mixed with his lamentations over the vanity of life. He has 
seen all the works done under the sun, and all are in his opin- 
ion ** vanity and vexation of spirit." 

*' Wisdom and knowledge do but bring more grief. Koheleth 
tried various kinds of pleasure and found them vain too. He 
built, he planted, he made pools of water. He procured men- 
servants and maid-servants, and (as a natural consequence) had 
servants born in his house. All was equally fruitless. But 
whatever a man does, he has nothing but sorrow and grief. 
Even wisdom is of little use, for a dolt may inherit the frnit 
of the wise man's labors. Men are no better than animals; they 
all die equally; all return to the dust. Who can say that man's 
spirit goes upwards, and the animal's downwards ? Just men 
are often rewarded like wicked men, and wicked men like just 
ones ; this is one of the many vanities on earth. So then the 
best thing a man can do is to eat, drink, and enjoy life with an 
agreeable wife; for this life*is all he has. Once dead, there is 
no further consciousness, or participation in anything that is 
going on. Whatever a man's hand finds to do, let him do it 



SONG OF SOLOMON. 569 

with all his might; for there is neither action nor knowledge in 
the grave. It is well to remember God in youth before the evil 
days come. Words of the wise are as goads, but book-making 
and preaching are both of them a bore." Lastly, Koheleth 
concludes with the pious advice to the young man whom he is 
addressing, to fear God and keep his commandments, for that 
God will judge every action, be it good or be it bad. 

Subdivision 3. — The Song of Solomon* 

It is a singularly fortunate circumstance that the Song of 
Songs, a little work of an altogether secular nature and wholly 
unlike any other portion of the Hebrew Scriptures, should have 
been admitted into the Canon. Whatever may have been the 
delusion, whether its reputed Solomonian authorship or some 
other theory about it, under which it obtained this privilege, 
we owe it to this mistake that the solitary example of the Jew- 
ish drama In existence should have been preserved for the in- 
struction of modern readers. I say modern readers, because it 
is not until quite recently that the dramatic character of this 
piece has been ascertained and established beyond reasonable 
doubt. Thanks to the scholarship of Germany and France, we 
are now able to read the Song in the light of common sense. 
The stern theology of Judaism is for once laid aside, and we 
have before us a common love-story such as might happen 
among any Gentile and unbelieving race. A young girl, called 
a Sulamite, who is attached to a young man of her own rank 
in life, has been carried off to the harem of Solomon against 
her will. She is indifferent to the splendor of the royal palace, 
and resists the amorous advances of the king. Thus she suc- 
ceeds in "keeping her vineyard;" and is rewarded by rejoining 
her shepherd lover in her native village. The play is not with- 
out beauty, although it evinces a somewhat primitive condition 
of the drama at the time of its composition. 

Subdivision 4. — The Prophets. 

We have in the prophetical books a class of writings alto- 

* For Information on tho character and signiflcation of this book, see 
** Le CantlQue des Cantiques," par Ernest Renan. 



570 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLESS. 

gether peculiar to the Hebrew Scriptures. The prophets were 
men who during the whole course of the Hebrew monarchy, 
and even long after its close, acted as the inspired organs of 
the Almighty; admonishing, reproving, warning, or counseling 
in his name. At first the method by which the revelations they 
received were made known by them, was oral communication. 
Writing was not employed by them as an Instrument of pro- 
phetic discourse until after the earliest and most flourishing 
stage of the monarchy was past. Perhaps they were the most 
powerful of the prophets who addressed their exhortations di- 
rectly to those for whom they were Intended in eloquent dis- 
course or timely parable. Such prophets were Samuel, Nathan, 
Elijah, and Elisha, at the courts of the several kings in whose 
days they lived. Prophecy had declined a little in its influence 
on the people when its representatives betook themselves to the 
calmer method of written composition. Nevertheless, some of 
the prophets who have left us their works in writing continued 
at the same time to employ the older instrument" of spoken 
addresses. Isaiah and Jeremiah are conspicuous instances of 
this employment of the two organs of communication down- 
wards. During this same period there were many prophets who 
trusted exclusively to writing; while in the latest stage of pro- 
phetical inspiration, oral instruction was altogether dropped, 
and literary means alone were employed to make known the 
mind of Jehovah to his chosen people. 

The constant theme of all the prophets whose works have 
come down to us is the future greatness of the Hebrew race; 
their complete triumph over all their enemies; the glory of 
their ultimate condition, and the confusion or destruction of 
those who have opposed their march to this final victory. The 
human agent by whom this great revolution is to be effected is 
the Messiah. He is the destined weapon in the hand of God by 
whom Jewish religion, Jewish institutions, and Jewish rulers 
are to attain that supremacy over heathen religion, heathen 
institutions, and heathen rulers which is their natural birth- 
right. Continual disappointment had no effect upon these san- 
guine expectations. The Messiah must come, Israel must be 
victorious over every other *nation that came ih the way: this 
was the word of God, and it could not fail to be fulfilled. 



THE PROPHET JOEL. 571 

Troubles of many kinds might beset the people in the mean- 
time ; but of the attainment of the goal at last there could be 
no doubt. 

Of course this ever-recurring burden of the prophetic song 
is varied by many strains on subordinate or outlying topics. 
The prophets constantly refer to the events of the day, and use 
them for their own purposes. They reprove the sins of kings 
and people, endeavoring to show that these bring upon them 
the- misfortunes from which they suffer and which postpone the 
day of their triumph over the Gentiles. They connect special 
calamities with special offenses. They indicate the conduct 
which under existing circumstances ought to be pursued. They 
draw eloquent and beautiful pictures of the state of their own 
and of foreign countries. And they endeavor to raise the popu- 
lar conceptions of the majesty of God, of his character, and his 
requirements, to the level they have themselves attained. 

Turning now to the individual books which have come down 
to us in the Canon, and which must by no means be taken as 
comprehending all the works of the prophets who wrote their 
prophecies, we find that the oldest of these is that of Joel, the 
son of Pethuel.* Joel is supposed by the highest authority to 
have lived in the time of King Jehoash, or Joash, who is praised 
for his devout obedience to Jehoiada, the priest (2 Kings, xii). 
His prophecy was occasioned by a devastation of locusts. Lo- 
custs had wasted the land for some years, and there had been 
drought at the same time. On the occasion of a long drought 
Joel feared a fresh invasion of locusts, and therefore summoned 
his people to a festival of repentance at the temple. This festi- 
val occurred, and rain soon followed (P. A. B., vol. i. p. 87 fD. 
Here the old notion of a direct connection between the atten- 
tion paid by the people to Jehovah and his care for them is 
almost grotesquely manifested. Locusts are to be averted by 
fasting; rain obtained by rather more than usual devotion to 
God. On the other hand, the more spiritual view of religion to 
which the prophets generally tend, is shown in the order to the 
people to rend their hearts and not their garments. After thus 
attending to immediate necessities, Joel in stirring language ex- 

* Throughout these descriptions of the prophetic books, I follow the 
chronological arrangement of Ewald. 



572 • HOLT BOOKS. OK BIBLES. 

horts the people to war, hoping that they would thus get rid of 
the foreign oppressors who had broken into the sunken king- 
dom of David. He bids them beat their plough-shares into 
swords, and their pruning- hooks into spears, and desires the 
weak to say that they are strong. He j)romises his people 
revenge over their enemies, and holds out the cheering prospect 
of a time when, instead of their sons and daughters being sold 
as slaves to strangers, they will themselves make slaves of the 
sons and daughters of the heathen. 

Some short passages subsequently embodied by Isaiah in his 
works are considered by Ewald to belong to the same early age 
as Joel. The next complete prophet, however, in order of time, 
was Amos, whose revelations applied to the northern kingdom 
and threatened it with invasion by the Assyrians. Amos in fact 
utters a series of threatening predictions against various peoples, 
and his tone is mainly that of reproof. While, however, he fore- 
tells the captivity of Israel, and holds out nothing but the most 
depressing prospects of ruin and misery throughout the bulk 
of his book, he falls at the end into the accustomed strain of 
hopeful exultation. "The tabernacle of David" is to be raised 
up ; Israel is to be supreme over the heathen ; and the Israel- 
ites are not to be disturbed again from the land which God has 
given them, where exuberant prosperity is to be their lot. In- 
cidentally, Amos tells us a little of his personal history, which 
is not without interest. He attributes his consecration to the 
prophetic office to the direct intervention of Jehovah. He had 
originally no connection with other prophets, but was a simple 
herdsman, and was employed to gather sycamore fruit. But 
Jehovah took him while he was following the flock, and said, 
"Go, prophecy unto my people Israel." His is thus a typical 
case of the belief in immediate inspiration, and he is an exam- 
ple of the kind of character which led to the existence among 
the Israelites of the peculiar and powerful class who were holy, 
but not consecrated. Amos also tells us of a quarrel he had 
had with Amaziah, a priest at the court of Jeroboam. This 
priest had complained of his dismal predictions to the king, and 
had bidden him go to Judah and prophecy there. In return for 
this evidence of hostility Amos informs the priest that his wife 
is to become a prostitute in the town, that his sons and his 



AN ANONYMOUS PROPHET. 573 

daughters are to fall by the sword, that his land is to be 
divided by lot, and that he himself is to die on polluted soil 
(Amos vii. 10-17). Such were the courtesies that passed between 
rival teachers of religion at the court of Jeroboam. 

Hosea also tells us something of his personal affairs, more 
especially of his matrimonial relations, in which he was far 
from fortunate. We feel, in his opening chapters, the soreness 
of a husband whose wife has contemned his company and 
sought the amusement of a troop of lovers. Gomer, in fact, 
was shockingly unfaithful, and Hosea uses her as a type of the 
infidelity of Israel to Jehovah. At length she deserted him 
altogether, and went to another house, but he brought her back 
as a slave and put her under strict conjugal discipline. In like 
manner is Israel to return to her God, whom she has deserted 
for a time, and under the influence of God's love, freely bestowed 
after his anger has passed away, is to enjoy a period of great 
prosperity. Hosea, it will be observed, belonged to the northern 
kingdom, and his book is preeminently the Ephraimitic book of 
prophecy. But he wrote it in Judah. He worked in the north 
at two distinct epochs, first towards the close of Jeroboam II. 's 
reign, afterwards in the time of Zachariah, Shallum, and Mena- 
hem (P. A. B., vol. i. p. 171 ff). 

An anonymous prophet, contemporary with Isaiah, stands 
next in order of time. He is the author of Zechariah ix.-xi. 
inclusive, and of Zechariah chap. xiii. ver. 7-9 (P. A. B., vol i. 
p. 247 ff). These chapters contain the first distinct announce- 
ment of the advent of the Messiah, who is described in the 
famous prediction of a King coming to Jerusalem on an ass, 
and on a colt, the foal of an ass. Here too we find the curious 
allegory of the two staves, Bl auty and Bands, whereof one was 
broken by the prophet in token of the breach of his covenant 
with all the nations; the other, in token of the rupture of fra- 
ternal relations between Israel and Judah. In the course of 
this allegory, the prophet demands his price, thirty pieces of 
silver, and throws it into the temple treasuie; a passage which, 
by an accidental obscurity in the Hebrew, has been mistrans- 
lated as referring, not to the treasure, but to "the potter in the 
house of Lord," and then misapplied to the betrayal of Christ 
and the purchase of the potter's field. 



574 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

In the concluding words of this prophet it is announced that 
two-thirds of the people will perish, but that the remaining 
third will, after refining and trial, be accepted by God as his 
own people. 

We -enter now upon the consideration of a prophet who 
stands in the foremost ranli of those distinguished leaders of 
opinion whose works have been included in the Canon. There 
is no greater name among the prophets of Israel than that of 
Isaiah. But in speaking of Isaiah we must not fall into the 
confusion of . iitcluding under his writings the compositions of a 
prophet of far later date, which have been mistakenly bound 
up with his. Isaiah himself cannot receive credit for all that 
is published in his name. But that which he has actually left 
us is enough to entitle him to admiration as a master of 
rhetoric. 

Isaiah lived in the reign of Hezekiah, and enjoyed a position 
of high public consideration. Some of his prophetic sayings he 
wrote down soon after he had uttered them ; others not till 
long after. He had begun to come forward as a prophet in the 
last year of the reign of Uzziah. When he had labored a long 
time in his vocation of teacher, he determined to collect his 
sayings in a book. His oldest work was written about the year 
740 B. c, just after the accession of the young and weak Ahaz 
at Jerusalem, when the Assyrians had rendered the northern 
kingdom tributary but had not yet come to Judea. His second 
was written apparently in the reign of Hezekiah, in 724; and 
his third in the days of the same king, when the service of 
Jehovah had been restored. Such at least are the conclusions 
of the highest living authority on the literature of the Hebrew 
race (P. A. B., voL i. p. 271 ff). 

The earliest stratum discernible (according to that authority) 
in the Book of Isaiah is from chap. ii. 2 to chap. v. inclusive, 
and chap ix. 7-x. 4. The last five verses of chap. v. should not 
be taken along with the rest of the chapter, but should follow 
upon chap. x. 4 (Ibid., vol. i. p. 286 ff). These passages begin 
with a beautiful description of the happiness of the Israelites 
in the days of tlieir coming glory, when the mountain of the 
Lord's house will be established on the top of the mountains, 
and exalted above the hills; and when all nations will flow to 



THE PEOPHET OF ISAIAH. 575 

it, to worship and to learn the true faith. It is remarkable as 
evidence of the wide distinction between the view of Joel and 
that of Isaiah, that Isaiah exactly reverses the image of his 
predecessor, declaring that swords will be beaten into plough- 
shares and spears into pruning-hooks. Joel was looking to the 
necessities of the immediate present ; Isaiah to the prospects of 
the future. These chapters also contain an amusing ironical 
account of the finery of the Jerusalem ladies, which might ap- 
ply with slight alterations to the rich w^ome'n of all ages and 
countries. No doubt it was very offensive to Isaiah that they 
should go about with necks erect and wanton eyes, walking 
with a mincing gait; but a prophet who should threaten the 
women of London or Paris with scab on the head and the 
exposure of their persons on account of sins like these, would 
certainly bring more reprobation on himself than on them. But 
manners in Isaiah's days were not so delicate. A time is pre- 
dicted when Jehovah will wash away the filth of Zion's daugh- 
ters, and when all in Jerusalem shall be called holy. 

In the second part of his book (chap. vi. 1. chap. ix. 6, and 
chap. xvii. 1-11) Raiali gives an interesting, though only figura- 
tive, account of his consecration to the prophetic office. In the 
year of King Uzziah's death he says he saw the Lord sitting on 
his throne with a train so long as to fill the temple. When ho 
cried out that he was undone, for that be, a man of unclean 
lips, had seen the King, the Lord of hosts, a seraph flew up to 
him with a live coal in a pair of tongs, laid the coal on his 
mouth, and told him that his iniquity was now taken away and 
his sin purged. After this the voice of the Lord was heard in- 
quiring whom he should send, and Isaiah offered to take the 
post of his ambassador: "Here am I, send me." The proposal 
was accepted, and he at once received his instructions from 
headquarters. The prophet bpgan to preach in the manner 
desired, and among much discouraging matter he uttered the 
magnificent description of the Messiah, w^hich is familiar to 
all: — 

" For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given: and the govern- 
ment shall be upon his shoulder: and his name shall be called Wonder- 
ful, Counselor, the mighty God, the everlasting Father, the Prince of 
Peace." 



576 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

Isaiah's third work (composed in the reign of Hezekiah) 
begins at the first chapter of the canonical book. It opens with 
a pathetic lamentation over the infidelity of the children of 
Israel to their God, and proceeds at chap. xiv. 28 to recount a 
*' burden " which came in the death-year of King Ahaz. A 
prophecy by which a much older prophet (belonging, as is sup- 
posed, to the time of Joel) is embodied in "the burden of 
Moab," and extends through chap. xv. and chap. xvi. 7-12, after 
which Isaiah, having mentioned that this was formerly the word 
of the Lord about Moab, proceeds to say that his present word 
is that within three years the glory of Moab shall be contemned. 
The latter part of chap. xxi. (ver. 11-17), dealing with Dumah 
and Arabia, also belongs to this period. 

Further divisions are distinguishable in the writings of Isaiah 
after these three parts have been separated from the rest. 
Thus, we have a fourth division consisting of the 22d and 23d 
chapters, and containing a personal attack on Shebna and a 
prediction of the fall of Tyre. A fifth division, from chap, 
xxviii. to xxxii. inclusive, ends with a beautiful description of 
the happier time that is to come, when the fruit of justice will 
be peace, and the result of justice quietness and security, when 
the people will dwell in sure habitations and untroubled abodes. 
There is another writing, the sixth in order, which begins at 
chap. x. 5, and extends, in the first instance, to the end of 
chap. xii. This prophecy is remarkable, even in this eloquent 
book, for the marvelous eloquence with which, in his visions 
of future glory, the inspired seer depicts the government of the 
"rod out of the stem of Jesse," the "Branch" that is to "grow 
out of his roots," in whose reign the wild beasts will no longer 
persecute their prey, nor Ephraim and Judah keep up the 
memory of their ancient feud ; who will cause his beloved peo- 
ple to put the Philistines to flight, to conquer Edom and Moab, 
and reduce the children of Amnion to submission. Prophecies 
directed against Ethiopia and Egypt (chap. xvii. 12-xviii. 7, and 
chap. XX.) belong to the same portion of Isaiah's collected 
works. Threats against the Assyrians are contained in addi- 
tional chapters, namely, chap, xxxiii. and chap, xxxvii. 22-35, 
Lastly, a seventh portion of Isaiah consists of chap, xix., which, 
after holding out the prospect of great misfortunes to Egypt, 



THE PROPHET MIOAH. 577 

ends ill a somewhat uuiisual strain by admitting both Egyptians 
and Assyrians to be equal sharers with the Israelites in the 
ultimate prosperity of the earth, and declaring that the Lord 
himself will bless them all, saying, "Blessed be Egypt my peo- 
ple, and Assyria the work of my hands, and Israel mine in- 
heritance." 

It should be noted that, if Ewald's supposition be correct, 
the first four sections of the work, thus decomposed into 
its several constituents, were edited by Isaiah himself, while the 
fifth, sixth, and seventh were added by subsequent compilers to 
the collection he had left behind (P. A. B., vol. i. p. 48S). 

A very short prophecy called by Obadiah's name follows 
upon the genuine writings of Isaiah in chronological order. It 
is in fact anonymous. In its present form it belongs to the 
time of the Ca.ptivity. The object of the unknown prophet was 
to reprove the Idumeans for rejoicing in and profiting by the 
destruction of Jerusalem. In his writing he embodied an older 
prophecy by the actual Obadiah, referring to a calamity that 
had befallen Edom, when a part of its territory had been sur- 
prised and completely plundered by a people with whom it had 
just been in alliance. The same old piece was used by Jere- 
miah (chap, xiix: 7) in his prophecy upon Edom (lb., vol. i. p. 
489 ff). 

Micah, the next prophet, was a younger contemporary of 
Isaiah, but lived in the country. When he wrote the northern 
kingdom was approaching its end, and he threatens Judah with 
chastisement and destruction. He foresaw the fulfillment of 
Messianic hopes as arising only from the ruin of the existing 
.order of things. No more than the first five chapters are by 
Micah himself (lb., vol. i. p. 498 ff). His book is remarkable for 
the extremely warlike description he gives of Messianic happi- 
ness. Many other prophets conceive it as an important element 
in that happiness that the Israelites shall be victorious over 
their enemies; but fev, if any, have come up to Micah in the 
fervor with which he foretells the desolation, the carnage, the 
utter suppression of rival nations, which will accompany that 
C'.ge. The author of the scenes of blood will be the ruler who is 
to come from Bethlehem-Ephratah. The prophet who has 
added the last two chapters also looks forward to an age whea 



578 HOLY BOOKS, OE BIBLES. 

Jehovah will at length i3erform his promises to Abrt ham and 
Jacob, to the terror of the unbelieving nations. 

Next after Micah stands Nahum. The occasion of his proph- 
ecy was a hostile attack directed against Nineveh. He must 
have seen the danger with hjis own eyes, and he was therefore 
a descendant of one of the Israelites who had been carried off 
to Assyria. He evidently lived far from Palestine, and was 
familiar with Assyrian affairs. Elkosh, where the inscription 
places his residence, was a little town on the Tigris. His book 
may refer to the siege of Nineveh by the Median king Phraorles 
about six hundred and thirty-six (P. A. B., vol. ii. p. 1). The 
interest of Nahum's prophecy is merely local; he does not rise 
beyond the politics of the hour, and we need not therefore stop 
to examine his utterances in detail. It may be noted, however, 
that an expression which has become famous through its adop- 
tion by a much later prophet, "Behold, upon the mountains the 
feet of him that bringeth good tidings, that publisheth peace," 
is first found in Nahum. 

Zephaniah's prophecy arose out of a great movement of 
nations. He lived in the reign of Josiah, but wrote before the 
reformation effected by that monarch. The movement alluded 
to by him must have been the great irruption of the Scythians 
mentioned by Herodotus as having interrupted the siege of 
Nineveh by Kyaxares, King of the Medes (Herod., i. 103). These 
last days of the Assyrian kingdom gave rise to long disturb- 
ances in which the Chaldeans became conquerors (P. A. B., vol. 
ii. p. 14). After various threatenings against divers people, the 
prophecy of Zephaniah ends with a beautiful vision of the age 
to come, when the suppliants of Jehovah will come from beyond 
the rivers of Ethiopia; and when a virtuous and happy rem- 
nant will be left in Israel. 

When Habakkuk, the next prophet, wrote his thoughts, and 
composed the public prayer or psalm which forms his conclud- 
ing chapter, the Chaldeans were already in the land. This " bit- 
ter and hasty nation " was quite a new phenomenon there. 
Habakkuk lived after the reformation of Josiah, and therefore 
in the reign of Jehoiakim (lb., vol. ii. p. 29). He seems to have 
written to plead with the Almighty for deliverance, and to ex- 
press unabat^cl cppfidence in him ; and he hoped that his 



THE PKOPHET JEREMIAH. 579 

words, set to music and sung in public worship, would induce 
him to abate his anger as manifested in the Chaldean scourge. 

An anonymous prophet (lb., vol. ii. p. 52) (Zechariah xiii. 
1-xiii. 6, and xiv.) predicts the siege and capture of Jerusalem, 
with all the miserable incidents of conquest: the rifling of her 
houses, the ravishing of her women, the condemnation to cap- 
tivity of half her inhabitants. Like other prophets, however, 
he looks forward in sanguine anticipation to a day when the 
heathen nations who now make war upon Jerusalem Avill regu- 
larly go up there every year to worship Jehovah, and keep 
the feast of tabernacles. At least if any of them do not, they 
will have no rain. ' In that glorious age the very pots in the 
Lord's house will be like the bowls for offerings; nay, every 
pot in Judah and Jerusalemx will be holy to the Lord of hosts. 

We pass now to 'the consideration of a prophet who stands 
second in eaiinence only to Isaiah, and to the unknown author 
of the later work which in the Canon is included in the Book 
of Isaiah. Jeremiah began to prophesy in the thirteenth year 
of Josiah, and continued to do so during the reigns of Jehoiakim 
and Zedekiah. His active life, like that of Isaiah, extended 
over a period of half a century (P. A. B., vol. ii. p. 63 ff). It is 
noteworthy that Jeremiah was a priest, and therefore combined 
in his person the double qualification of consecration and of 
exceptional holiness : that is, he was consecrated to Jehovah, 
and also appointed expressly by Jehovah. The manner of his 
appointment to be a holy person resembles the manner of the 
appointment of Isaiah. The word of the Lord came to him, 
saying, that before God had formed him in the belly he had 
known him, and before he had come forth from the womb he 
had sanctified him, and ordained him a prophet unto the 
nations. Jeremiah objected that he was but a child. But Jeho- 
vah told him not to say he was a child, for that he was to go 
where he was sent, and speak wltat he was commanded. He 
was not to be afraid of men's faces, for he, the Lord, would 
deliver him. Then he touched Jeremiah's mouth with his hand, 
and said: "Behold, I put my words in thy mouth. See, I 
appoint thee this day over the nations and over the kingdoms, 
to root out, and to pull down, and to destroy, and to throw 
dowu, to build and to plant." After this solemn dedication to 



580 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

.his duties Jeremiah was certainly endowed with the fullest 
qualifications for the prophetic office. He immediately began 
to see images ; namely, a rod of an almond-tree and a teething 
pot, and it continued afterwards to be one of his characteristics 
to employ material imagery of this nature for the purpose of 
illustrating the truths he had to communicate. 

After this introduction, we have a long section of the work, 
namely, from the second chapter to the twenty-fourth, begin- 
ning with the prophecies of the thirteenth year of Josiah. 
Among other things this portion includes Jeremiah's bitter im- 
precation upon his personal enemies, the "men of Anathoth," 
on whom he begs to be permitted to witness the vengeance of 
Grod, and concerning whom he receives the consoling assurance 
that their young men will die by the sword, and their sons and 
daughters by famine, and that there will not be a remnant left. 
This section contains also the terrible prayer against those who 
" devised devices " agains-t Jeremiah, in other words, did not 
believe in his predictions. In its intense intolerance, in its un- 
blushing disclosure of private malignity, in its unscrupulous 
enumeration of the ills desired for these opponents of the 
prophet, it is perhaps unrivaled in theological literature. To do 
Jeremiah justice it ought to be quoted at length: — 

" Give heed to me, O Jehovah, and listen to the voice of my oppo- 
nents. Shall evil be recompensed for good, that they dig a pit for my 
life? Remember how I stood before thee, to speak a good word for 
them, to turn away thy wrath from them. Therefore give their sons to 
famine, and deliver them into the power of the sword; and let their 
wives be bereaved of their children and widowed, and let their men be 
put to death; let their young men be slain by the sword in battle. Let 
a cry be heard from their houses, when thou suddenly bringest troops 
upon them; for they have digged a pit to take me, and hid snares for 
my feet. Yet thou, Jehovah, knowest all their counsel against me to 
slay me ; and blot not out their sin from thy sight, and let them be over- 
thrown before thee ; deal with them in the time of thine anger " (Jer. 
xviii. 19-23). 

In another chapter there is a curious account of an incident 
with Pashur, superintendent of the Temple, who had caused 



THE PROPHECIES OF JEREMIAH. 581 

Jeremiah to be put in stocks for a day. Jeremiah complains 
bitterly of the treatment he meets with on account of his 
prophesying, and wishes to resign the office, but the infpulse 
proves too strong for him. He consoles liimself with a pious 
hope that Jehovah will let him see his vengeance on his ene- 
mies (Jer. XX. 1-12). He continues to predict misfortunes, but 
intermingles with his gloomier forebodings a fine vision of the 
time when God shall gather together the remnant of his flock 
from the countries to which he has driven them, and raise up 
*'a righteous Branch" of the house of David, who will reign 
and prosper, who will execute justice and equity, in whose days 
Judah will be saved, and I^^rael dwell secure (Jer. xxiii. 2-6). 

In a third section of his work (chap. xlvi. 1-12, and chap, 
xlvii. 49) Jeremiah deals with foreign nations, and then (in 
chap. XXV.) declares that he has been prophesying a long time 
without being able to get the Jews to listen to him, foretells 
their subjugation by Nebuchadnezzar, and (rather unfortunately 
for his own and Jehovah's reputation for correct foresight) com- 
mits himself to the definite term of seventy years as the dura- 
tion of the coming captivity. A wise prophet would have kept 
within the safe region of vagueness, where he could not come 
into collision with awkward dates nor drive orthodox interpre- 
ters into such pitiable straits as those in which Ewald, for ex- 
ample, finds himself, when he is compelled to sa3^ that seventy 
years is a perfectly general indication of a future that cannot 
be more precisely fixed, and that it merely refers to the third 
generation from the writer (P. A. B., vol. ii. p. 230). The remain- 
der of this section (chap, xxvi.-xxix.) relates certain cencoun- 
ters with other prophets whose predictions had turned out false, 
and one of whom, as Jeremiah exultingly relates, died during 
the year, exactly as Jeremiah had declared he would. Interest- 
ing evidence is supplied by these chapters of the existence of 
numerous prophets who differed from each other, and between 
whose claims only the eyent could decide. 

In the fourth section (chap, xxx.-xxxv.) Jeremiah prophesies 
the restoration of Israel, nnd tells his readers how he bought a 
field from his cousin on the strength of his hopes that the cap- 
tivity would have an end. A fifth part (chaps, xxxvi., xlv.) 
relates to Baruch, Jeremiah's secretary; and an appendix (chap. 



582 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

xxxvii.-xliv., and chap. xlvi. 13-28) contaiDS historical matter, 
and predictions about Egypt, but concludes w'ith the usual 
promise of the ultimate return of the Jewish nation to its an- 
cestral home. 

The last chapter of Jeremiah is purely historical, and^ like 
the historical portions of Isaiah, need not be considered under 
the prophets; but it must be noted that chaps. 1. and li. are 
not by Jeremiah, being the work of a much later writer, who 
lived in Palestine, and who composed them to show that the 
words of the genuine Jeremiah were fulfilled in the destruction 
of Babylon by the Medes, which was taking place at this time 
(P. A. B., vol. iii. p. 140 ff). The small Book of Lamentations 
over the unhappy fate of Jerusalem, ascribed to Jeremiah, is an 
artistic attempt to embody the grief of the writer in a song of 
which each verse begins with a new letter, in alphabetical 
order. 

We pass now to the prophet Ezekiel, a Jew who was taken 
into captivity with Jehoiachin, and lived at a small town of 
Mosopotamia. He felt the first prophetic impulses in the fifth 
year of the Captivity (lb,, vol. ii. p. 322 ff). At this time the 
heavens were opened ; he saw visions, and the word of the Lord 
came expressly to him. Such was the nature of his consecra- 
tion. The first section of Ezekiel extends from chap. i. to xxiv., 
and contains utterances about Israel before the destruction of 
Jerusalem. The second section (chap, xxv.-xxxii.) deals with 
foreign nations, and the third (chap, xxxiii.-xlviii.) holds out 
promises of restoration. 

Ezekiel is very inferior to his great predecessors, Isaiah and 
Jeremiah. He has neither the fervid, manly oratory of the first 
nor the pathetic, though rather soft and feminine flow of the 
second. He takes pleasure in rather course images, such as that 
of the bread baked with human dung (Ezek. iv), that of Jehovah 
with his two concubines, who bore him sons and vexed him 
with their licentious conduct (Ezek. xxiii), or that of the child 
whose naval was not cut, who grew up into a woman, over 
whom Jehovah spread his skirt and covered her nakedness 
(Ezek. xvi. 8). And in general, Ezekiel is particularly prone to 
teaching by means of similes and illustrations. Sometime he 
sees visions in which God explains his meaning; at other times 



THE GREAT PROPHET OF ISRAEL. 583 

he acts in a manner which is designed to be typical of coming 
events. Thus, on one occasion, he openly brings out his furni- 
ture for removal, as a sign to the rebellious house of Israel 
(Ezel. xii. 1-7). 

As in Jeremiah, so in Ezekiel we find traces of .hostility 
towards rival prophets, whom he denounces in no measured 
terms. It is interesting, too, to observe that there were female 
prophets in his day, who prophesied out of their own hearts. 
To them also he conveys the reprobation of the Almighty (Ezek. 
xiii). The form in which he looks forward to the restoration of 
Israel and Judah to their homes, is somewhat different from 
that in which it was expected by his predecessors. In a very 
singular vision, he relates that his God took him into a valley 
■which was full of bones, and told him that these were the 
bones of the whole house of Israel. Ezekiel is then informed 
that God will open the graves of the dead, and cause these 
bones to live again, and will bring them to the land of Israel. 
Afterwards, he is told to join two sticks into one, this junction 
representing the future union of Ephraim and Judah, who are 
to be gathered from among the heathen, and are to form one 
nation governed by one king. That king is to be David, who 
will be their prince forever. God will make an everlasting 
covenant of peace with them, and put his sanctuary in their 
midst for evermore. Here the resurrection of the dead, and 
the return of David, instead of the appearance of a new king, 
are peculiar features. 

An anonymous prophet is supposed to have written Isaiah 
xxi. 1-10, and another Isaiah xiii. 2-xiv. 23, the latter referring to 
Babylon, and containing the imaginary exultation of the restored 
Israelites over the fallen Babylonians. After these fragments 
we have the work of one who is perhaps the greatest of all the 
prophets, but who also is unknown to us by name. As the 
most fitting description we may perhaps call him the anony- 
mous prophet. The whole of the latter portion of Isaiah, from 
chap. xl. to the end, is his work. The anonymous prophet lived 
in Egypt. His peculiar conception was that Israel was the ser- 
vant of the Lord for the peace and the salvation of nations, as 
Kyros was his servant in war (P. A. B., vol. iii. p. 20 ff). Alike 
in beauty of language and sublimity of thought he is supreme 



581 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

among the writers of the Hebrew Bible. He is the prophet of 
sorrow: yet also the prophet of consolation. Whether by a 
curious accident, or whether by virtue of a tendency (not uncom- 
mon among truly great writers) to withdraw his personality 
from observation and confine himself wholly to the message he 
had to deliver, he tells us nothing of himself. Hence he has for 
centuries been hidden behind the figure of Isaiah, whom never- 
theless he surpasses in the purity of his ideal. To him we owe 
the beautiful passage beginning "Comfort ye, comfort ye, my 
people," with the description afterwards applied by Jesus 
Chiist to John the Baptist. From him also we have the most 
exalted conceptions of the Messiah, the moral element in his 
character being raised as compared with the element, of mate- 
rial power, to a height hitherto unexampled in prophetic vision. 
Take, for instance, this description of his mildness cor^bined 
with indomitable perseverence :— 

" He shall not cry, nor lift up, nor cause his voice to be heard in the 
street. A bruised reed shall he not break, and the smoking flax shall he 
not quench; he shall bring forth judgment unto truth. He shall not 
fail nor be discouraged, till he have set judgment in the earth, and the 
isles shall wait for his law " (Is. xlii. 2-4). 

It is the anonymous prophet, too, who has given us the 
familiar passage, "He is despised and rejected of men;" a pas- 
sage describing the career of a great man whose teachings in- 
volved him in persecutioi]. and ultimately in martyrdom, but 
nowise applicable to the Messiah. That a historial incident, 
known to the writer, is alluded to in this touching account of 
suffering goodness, admits of no reasonable doubt. 

The anonymous prophet is preeminently the prophet of con- 
solation. Living in. the days of Kyros and of the restoration of 
the Temple, he had the elements of soothing speech ready to 
his hand; and as his predecessors had prophesied destruction 
and woe, occasionally varied with strains of hope, so he proph- 
esies in strains of hope, occasionally varied with sterner lan- 
guage. It is his especial mission to heal the wounds that have 
been made in the spirit of Judah. God had indeed forsaken her 
for a while ; but he will now take her back as a deserted wife, 



THE GREAT PROPHET OP ISRAEL. 585 

who had suffered her punishment. He had hidden his face in 
a little wrath for a moment; but with everlasting kindness will 
he now have mercy upon her (Is. liv. 5-7). The concluding 
chapter of the anonymous prophet contains a magnificent de- 
scription of the ultimate gathering of all nations and tongues, 
when Jerusalem will be the central point of human worship, 
and the glory of God will be seen by all. The picture is not 
indeed unmingled with darker shades, for great numbers are to 
be destroyed by Jehovah in his indignation. On the other hand, 
there is a trait exhibiting the superiority of this prophet to his 
predecessors in toleration for the Gentiles: namely, the remark- 
able prediction that some of them also are to be priests and 
Levites (Is. Ixvi. 12-24). The man who could utter this senti- 
ment had made a signal advance upon the ordinary narrow and 
exclusive notions of the prerogcitives of the Jewish race. 

It was mentioned that the fiftieth and fifty-first chapters of 
Jeremiah weire added by a later hand. The same hand (in 
Ewald's opinion) composed the thirty-fourth and thirty-fifth 
chapters of Isaiah, of which the second describes in very elo- 
quent terms the coming glory, when " the ransomed of the 
Lord" shall return, and come to Zion with songs, and everlasting 
joy upon their heads; they shall obtain joy and gladness, and 
sorrow and sighing shall flee away " (Is. xxxv. 10). Another 
unknown writer (Isaiah xxiv.-xxvii.) predicts in the first place 
the desolation which the Lord is about to effect, and then the 
happiness of the Jews who will be brought to their own land 
again, to worship Jehovah in the holy mount at Jerusalem. 
One of his expressions, "He will swallow up death in victory," 
has been adopted by St. Paul; another, "The Lord God will 
wipe away tears from off all faces," by the author of the Apoc- 
alypse. 

The interest of Haggai's prophecy is purely special : it refers 
to the building of the temple at Jerusalem in the reign of 
Darius. It was the unexpected obstacles by which the building 
was hindered that kindled his zeal ; he made his five speeches 
in three months of the same year. Probably he had not seen 
the first temple, and he left his prophetic work to his younger 
contemporary Zechariah (P. A. B., vol. iii. p. 177 ff). 

Zechariah also lived in the time of Darius, and dealt princi- 



586 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

pally with the building of the temple (lb., vol. iii. p. 187 ff). A 
series of visions which he professes to see shows how his mind 
was running upon this absorbing theme; and he even expects 
the Messiah, whom Isaiah and Jeremiah had called a Branch 
of David, and whom he more emphatically terms the Branch, 
to appear at the head of affairs and to carry the works to their 
completion (Zech., 8, and vi. 12). He supposes that he will then 
sit and rule upon his throne ; a priest will be beside him, and 
there will be a counsel of peace between these two — the mon- 
arch and his ecclesiastical minister (Zech., vi. 13). 

It was probably more than half a century later that the 
short book bearing the title of Malachi was written. The true 
name of its author is unknown, and that of Malachi, my mes- 
senger, was taken by its editor from the first verse of the third 
chapter (P. A. B., vol. iii. p. 214 ff). He is not a prophet of a 
high calibre, as is shown by his denunciation; already quoted, 
of those among the Jews who offered Jehovah their least valu- 
able cattle. Nor is his conception of the Messianic epoch in 
any way comparable to that of the great prophets whose works 
he might have studied. He says indeed that the Sun of right- 
eousness will arise with healing in his wings ; but it appears 
that this healing is to consist in the Israelites treading down 
the wicked, who will be as dust under their feet. He concludes 
by announcing the return of Elijah, before "the great and 
dreadful day of the Lord," and says, in his threatening tone, 
that this prophet will turn the hearts of the fathers to the 
children, and of the children to the fathers, lest God should 
come and smite the earth with a curse. 

The Book of Jonah, which may have been written in the 
fifth or sixth century b. c. (P. A. B., vol. iii. p. 233 ff), is a story 
with a moral rather than a prophecy, Jonah was desired by 
Jehovah to preach against Nineveh, but fled from his duty, 
and took passage in the ship to Tarshish, duly paying his fare. 
However, when a storm arose, Jonah knew that it was sent as a 
penalty for his disobedience, and told the sailors to throw him 
overboard. This they did, but he was swallowed alive by a large 
fish prepared for the purpose, and remained within it three 
days. By this lesson he was prepared to execute God's com- 
mands, and was accordingly thrown up by the fish on dry land. 



THE PROPHET DANIEL. 587 

He preached to the people of Nineveh, as desired, the coming 
destruction of their city; but when they repented, Jehovah 
changed his mind, much to the annoyance of his prophet, who 
represented that his unfortunate tendency to clemency v/as the 
very reason why he had not wished to enter his service. But 
Jehovah, by causing him to regret the destruction of a gourd 
which had sheltered him, showed him that there would be much 
more reason to spare so large a city as Nineveh, which con- 
tained, not only a vast population, but also a great deal of 
cattle. 

If Malachi and Jonah stand in unfavorable contrast to the 
works composed during the golden age of Hebrew literature, 
Daniel, the latest book of the Old Testament, represents the 
complete degeneracy of prophecy. It is from beginning to end 
artificial ; professing to be written at one time and by an author 
whose name and personality are given ; in reality written at 
another time, and by an author whose name and i^ersonality are 
concealed. Hence it contains pseudo-prophecies, which are 
comparatively clear, extending from the imagined date of the 
supposed prophet to the actual date of the real prophet; and it 
contains genuine prophecies which are obscure, and which ex- 
tend from the actual date into the actual future. It contains 
also much that relates to the politics of the day, and which, for 
obvious reasons, is cast into an enigmatic form. Daniel was 
written about the year b. c. 168, a little before the death of An- 
tiochus Epiphanes, and the allusions to that monarch are of 
course made under the veil of prophecy, in a style designed to 
be intelligible, without being direct. The predictions of the 
eleventh chapter refer to the wars of the Syrian and Egyptian 
kings, and especially to Antiochus Epiphanes, who is the "vile 
person " mentioned in the twenty-first verse. The purpose of 
the work was to set an example of fidelity to Jehovah to the 
powerful Jews who were connected with the Syrian court, and 
especially to the younger members of the great Jewish families, 
who were in danger of being corrupted by its seductions (P. A. 
B., vol. iii. p. 298 ff). 

The form chosen to effect the writer's object is autobio- 
graphical. In this way he was able to utter his political views 
— which, directly expressed, would have been dangerous to his 



588 HOLY BOOKS. OE BIBLES. 

safety — under the guise of sentiments uttered by Daniel, the 
fictitiojis narrator of the story. Daniel was taken as a captive 
child along with other children of Jewish race to serve at the 
court of Nebuchadnezzar, and remained at the Chaldean court 
until the death of Nebuchadnezzar's son, Belshazzar, and 'the 
subjugation of his empire by the Medes and Persians. He con- 
tinued to hold an honorable position at the Persian court under 
Darius and Kyros. He first rose to distinction by relating and 
interpreting to Nebuchadnezzcir a dream which the king had 
himself forgotte-n. Thus, from being a mere page he rose to be 
a sort of astrologer royal. His life was not, however, free from 
trouble. Among the children who had been brought with him 
from Judea he had three friends, Hananiah, Mishael, and Aza- 
riak, whom the Chaldeans called Shadrach, Meshach, and Abed- 
nego. When Daniel had successfully interpreted the king's 
dream, he contrived to obtain lucrative situations in the province 
of Babylon for Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. But these 
three having refused to worship a golden image which the king 
had set up in that province were by the king's orders cast into 
a burning fiery furnace, heated beyond its usual temperature. 
But though they fell bound in the midst of it, they were not 
burnt, and were seen walking about at their ease in it, accom- 
panied by a fourth, who looked like the Son of Man (Dan. iii). 

It is remarkable that a i)recisely similar prodigy occurred in 
one of the innumerable previous existences of the Buddha 
Sakyamuni. He was at this time the son and heir of a great 
king, and to prove his dovotion to the true doctrine he literally 
obeyed the instructions of a Brahman, who desired him to fill 
a ditch ten yards deep with glowing coals and jump into it. On 
this condition the Brahman had consented to teach him the 
holy doctrine. Eesisting all entreaties to preserve his life, the 
prince caused the pool ol fire to be prepared and leapt into it 
without shrinking for a moment. On the instant it was con- 
verted into a basin of flowers, and he appeared sitting on a 
lotus-flower in its midst, while the gods caused a rain of flowers, 
that rose knee-deep to fall upon the assembled people (G. O. 
M., p. 14). 

Nor is this the only other example of a wise discrimination 
being exercised by the fiery element. During the reign of the 



THE STORY OF SAMUDRA. 589 

Indian king Asoka, who in the early part of his career was 
ferocious, and irreligious, the public executioner enjoyed the sin- 
gular privilege of being entitled to retain in his house every 
one, whatever his position or character, who might cross the 
threshold of his door. Now the outside of the executioner's 
house was beautiful and attractive, though within it was full of 
instruments of torture, with which he inflicted on his victims 
the punishments of hell. One day a holy monk, named Samu- 
dra, arriving at this apparently charming house, entered it, but 
on discovering the nature of its interior wished to make his 
exit. But it was too late. The executioner had seen him, and 
told him that he must die. After seven days' respite; he threw 
the monk into an iron caldron filled with water mixed with 
loathsome materials, and kindled a fire below it. But the fire 
would not burn. Far from experiencing any pain, the holy 
man appeared calmly seated on a lotus. The executioner having 
informed Asoka of this fact, the king arrived with a suite of 
thousands of persons. Seeing this crowd, the monk darted into 
the air, and there produced miraculous appearances. The king, 
struck by the extraordinary sight, requested the ascetic to say 
who he was, declaring that he honored him as a disciple. Sa- 
m^udra, perceiving that the moment had arrived at which the 
king was to receive the grace of instruction in the law, replied 
that he was a son of Buddha, that merciful Being, and that he 
was delivered from the bonds of existence. And thou, O great 
king, thy advent was predicted by Bhagavat, when he said : A 
hundred years after I shall have entered into complete Nirvana, 
there will be in the town of Pataliputtra a king called Asoka, a 
king ruling over the four quarters of the world, a just king, 
who will distribute my relics," and so forth. He proceeded to 
point out to Asoka the wickedness of establishing a house of 
torment like that he was in, and entreated him to give security 
to the beings who implored his compassion. Hereui^on the king 
accepted the law of Buddha, and determined to cover the earth 
with monuments for his relics. But when the royal party were 
about to leave the place, the executioner had the audacity to 
remind Asoka of his promise that no one who had once entered 
his doors might ever go out. "What," cried Asoka, "do you 
wish then to put me also to death? " '* Yes," replied the man. 



590 HOLY BOOKS, OR BIBLES. 

On this he was seized and thrown into the torture-room, where 
he died in the flames, and his house was destroyed (H. B. I., p.' 
365-372). 

Daniel himself met with an adventure of the same perilous 
nature as that which had befallen his three friends, though 
under another government. Darius, by the advice of some 
counselors who desired to destroy Daniel, had made an order 
that no one should ask a petition of any god or man save him- 
self for thirty days. But Daniel of course continued to worship 
Jehovah as before, and was sentenced in the terms of the edict 
to be thrown into a lions' den. But the lions would no more 
eat Daniel than the fire would burn his co-religionists; and 
just as Asoka, when he had witnessed the escape of the ascetic, 
worshiped Buddha, so Darius, having discovered Daniel unin- 
jured in the lions' den, immediately ordered that in all parts of 
his dominions people should tremble and fear before the (jrod of 
Daniel (Dan. vi). 

Of the prophecies contained in this book the most remarka- 
ble is that concerning the Messiah, who is announced as destined 
to come at a time fixed by a mystical calculation expressed in 
weeks. The object of the writer was to fix a date for the Mes- 
siah's appearance, without expressing himself in such unambig- 
uous terms as would be universally understood. Such is the 
true method of prophecy in all religions, for a prophet who 
utters his forecast of the future in such a manner as to render 
his meaning unmistakable, exposes himself to the hazardous 
possibility that the event in history may turn out altogether 
unlike the event foretold. 

Subdivision 5.— The God of Israel 

One great question has hitherto been left untreated — that of 
the theology and morals of the Hebrew Bible. Theology and 
morals are so intimately blended in its pages that the one can 
scarcely be discussed without involving the other. The charac- 
ter of Jehovah is the pattern of morality; his will is its funda- 
mental law ; his actions its exemplification. Hence to consider 
the character of Jehovah is of necessity to consider also the 
Hebrew notions of ethics; while to inquire into the Hebrew 



THE GOD OF ISRAEL. 591 

Standard of ethics is to enquire into tlie commands of Jehovah. 
Let us try then to ascertain what manner of deity Jehovah is. 
To do so, our best course will be to select the salient features 
of his history, as related by the sacred writers. 

Now, at the very outset of his proceedings we observe that 
he takes up towards mankind a very definite attitude : that of a 
superior entitled to demand implicit obedierce. Whether the 
fact that he was man's creator justified so extensive a claim it 
is needless in this place to discuss. Suffice it that he had the 
power to enforce under the severest penalties the submission he 
demanded. But it might have been expected that a divine 
being, who assumed such unlimited rights over a race so vastly 
his inferiors in knowledge and in strength, should at least exer- 
cise them with discretion and moderation. It might have been 
expected that where he claimed obedience it would be with a 
view to the well-being of his creatures ; not merely as an arbi- 
trary exercise of his enormous power. What, on the contrary, is 
the conduct he pursued ? His very first act after he had created 
Adam and Eve and placed them in Paradise was to forbid them, 
under penalty of death, to eat the fruit of a certain tree which 
grew in their garden. There is not even a vestige of a pretense 
in the narrative that the fruit of this tree would in itself, and 
apart from the divine prohibition, have done them any harm. 
Quite the contrary; the fact of eating it enlarged their faculties; 
making them like gods, who know good and evil. And Jehovah 
was afraid that they might, after eating the fruit of the tree of 
knowledge, eat also that of the tree of life, after which he 
would be unable to kill them. So that it was his deliberate 
purpose in issuing this injunction to keep mankind feeble, 
ignorant and dependent. Nor is this by any means the whole 
extent of his misconduct. One of two charges he cannot escape. 
Either he knew when he created Adam and Eve that their 
nature was such that they would disobey, or he did not. In the 
first case, he knowingly formed them liable to fall, knowingly 
placed them amid conditions which rendered their fall inevita- 
ble; and then punished them for the castastroidio he had all 
along foreseen as the necessary result of the character he had 
bestowed upon them. In the second case, he was ignorant and 
short-sighted, being unable to guess what would be the nature 



592 HOLY BOOKS, OR BIBLES. 

of his own handiwork; and should not iiave meddled with 
tasks which were obviously beyond the scope of his faculties. 
And even in this latter case, the most favorable one for Jehovah, 
he acted with unpardonable injustice towards the man and 
woman in first creating them with a nature whose powers of 
resistance to temptation he could not tell, then placing tempta- 
tion, raised to its utmost strength by a mysterious order, con- 
tinually under their noses, then allowing a serpent to suggest 
that they should yield to it, and lastly punishuig the unhaijpy 
victims of this chain of untoward circumstances by expulsion 
from their garden. A human parent who should thus treat his 
children would be severely and justly censured. It is a striking 
proof how rudimentary were the Hebrew conceptions of justice, 
that they should have accepted, in reference to their deity, a 
story which evinces so flai-^rant a disregard of its most element- 
ary requirements (Gen. ii. 8, and iiij. Just as in the case of 
Adam and Eve, he required implicit obedience to an arbitrary 
command, so in the case of Abraham he required implicit obe- 
dience to an immoral one. There was with him no fixed system 
of morality. Submission to his will was the alpha and omega 
of virtue. Observe now how superior is the feeling shown in 
the Hindu legend which has been quoted as a parallel to that of 
the projected sacrifice of Isaac. Although in that story the 
father was bound by a solemn promise to sacrifice his sou, yet 
he is never blamed for his reluctance to do so, though Abraham 
is praised for his willingness; while the Brahman who is 
actually prepared to plunge the sacrificial knife into his child's 
breast is treated with scorn and reprobation for his unfeeling 
behavior. Even the service of the gods is not made supreme 
over every human emotion. But the conception of the exist- 
ence of duties independent of the divine will seems not to have 
entered the minds of the Hebrew theologians who wrote these 
books. ' 

The further proceedings of Jehovah are quite in keeping 
with his beginning in the garden of Eden. Throughout the 
whole course of the history he shows the most glaring partial- 
ity. In its earlier period he is partial to individuals; in its 
later, to the Hebrew race. Let us notice a few cases of this 
favoritism as shown towards individual favorites. Immediately 



THE GOD OF ISRAEL. 593 

after the curse upon Adam and Eve, and their banishment from 
Eden, we have the instructive story of Cain and Abel, so mag- 
nificently dramatized by Byron. These two brothers, sons of 
the original couple, both brought offerings to Jehovah; Cain, 
the fruit of the ground; Abel, the firstlings of his flock.- But 
the Lord had respect to Abel and his offering, but not to Cain 
and his offering. Why was this difference made ? Absolutely 
no reason is assigned for it, and it is not surprising, however 
lamentable, that it should have excited the jealousy of the 
brother who was thus ill-treated (Gen. iv. 1-8). Again, it has 
been remarked above that Abraham and Isaac had a singular 
way of passing off their wives as their sisters. Pharaoh was 
once depeived in this way about Sarah ; Abimelech of Gerar, 
once about Sarah, and once about Eebekah. These two mon- 
archs were plagued by Jehovah on account of their innocent 
mistake; the patriarchs were not even reproved for this cow- 
ardly surrender of their consorts to adulterous embraces (Gen. 
xii. 11-20, XX., xxvi. 7-11). Jacob is another favorite, while his 
brother Esau is coldly treated. Yet the inherent meanness of 
Jacob's character, and the comparative excellence of Esau's, 
are too obvious to escape even a careless reader. What can be 
more pitiful than the conduct of Jacob in taking advantage of 
a moment of weakness in his brother to purchase his birthright? 
(Gen. XXV. 29-3i.) What more ungenerous than the odious trick 
by which he imposed upon his father, and cheated Esau of his 
blessing? (Gen. xxvii.) What again can be more magnanimous 
than the long subsequent reception by Esau of the brother 
whose miserable subserviency showed his consciousness of the 
_ wrong he had done him ? (Gen. xxxiii. 1-15). Yet this is the 
man whom Jehovah selects as the object of his peculiar bless- 
ing, and whose very deceitfulness towards a kind employer he 
suffers to become a means of aggrandizement (Gen. xxx. 41-43). 
The same partisanship which in these cases forms so con- 
spicuous a trait in the character of Jehovah distinguishes the 
whole course of his proceedings in reference to the delivery of 
the Israelites from Egypt and their settlement in Palestine. 
Every other nation is compelled to give way for their advantage. 
Pharaoh and all the Egyptians arc plagued for holding them in 
slavery, not in the least because Jehovah was an abolitionist 



. 594 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

(for he never troubled himself about slavery anywhere else), but 
because it was his own peculiar people who were thus in subju- 
gation to a race whom he did not equally affect. Throughout 
the long journey from Egj'pt to the promised land, Jehovah 
accompanies the Israelites as a sort of commander-in-chief, 
directing them what to do, and giving them the victory over 
their enemies. As the Red Sea was divided to enable them to 
escape from their enemies on the one side, so the Jordan was 
cleft in two to enable them to conquer their enemies on the 
other (Ex. xiv. 21, 22.— Josh. iii. 7-17). The walls of a fortified 
city were thrown down to enable them to enter (Josh. vi. 20). 
The sun was arrested in his course to enable them to win a 
battle (Josh. x. 12-14). Hornets were employed to accomplish 
the expulsion of hostile tribes without trouble to the Israelites 
(Josh. xxiv. 12). Thus, as Jehovah afterwards took care to re- 
mind them, he gave them a land for which they did not labor, 
and cities which they did not build (Josh. xxiv. 13). 

Nevertheless the lot of the race who were thus highly 
favored was far from happy. Their God was indeed a' powerful 
protector, but he was also an exacting ruler. His service was 
at no time an easy one, and he was liable to outbursts of pas- 
sion which rendered it peculiarly oppressive. Tolerant as he 
might be towards some descriptions of immorality, he had no 
mercy whatever for disloyalty towards himself. On one occasion 
he characterized himself by the name of " Jealous " (Ex. xxxiv. 
14), which was but too appropriate, and implied the possession 
of one of the least admirable of human weaknesses. Now the 
Israelites were unfortunately prone to lapses of this kind. Such 
was the severity with which these offenses were treated that it 
is questionable whether it would not have been a far happier 
fate to be drowned in the Eed Sea with the Egyptians than 
preserved with the children of Israel. A few instances of what 
they had to undergo will illustrate this remark. 

Moses had impressed upon the people the importance of 
having no other deity but Jehovah, and had succeeded while he 
was actually among them in restricting them to his worship 
alone. But no sooner was he absent for a season than they 
immediately forsook Jehovah, and took to worshiping a golden 
calf. Worst of all, this new divinity was set up by Aaron, the 



THE GOD OF ISRAEL. 595 

brother of Moses, and high priest of the Jehovistic faith. That 
Jehovah should be rather vexed at such ungrateful behavior, 
after all the trouble he had taken in plaguing and slaughtering 
the Egyptians, was only natural; but it was surely an extraor- 
dinary want of self-control to propose to consume the whole 
nation at once, reserving only Moses as the progenitor of a bet- 
ter race. Here, as in other cases, Moses showed himself more 
merciful than his God. He ingeniously urged as a motive to 
clemency that the Egyptians would say extremely unpleasant 
things if tlie Israelites were destroyed; and after his return to 
the camp he contrived to appease him by inducing the Levites 
to perpetrate a fratricidal massacre, whereby three thousand 
people fell. This measure was described by Moses as a conse- 
cration of themselves to the Lord, that he might bestow his 
blessing upon them. It pr^oved successful, for Jehovah now 
contented himself with merely plaguing the people instead of 
exterminating them (Ex. xxxii). Thus, he had scarcely finished 
plaguing the Egyptians before he began plaguing the Israelites 
in their turn. Indeed he was at this period peculiarly prone to 
sending plagues of one kind or another. Some complaints of 
the Israelites in the wilderness were visited by fire which burnt 
up those who were at the extremities of the camp (Num. xi. 
1-3). When they began to pine for the varied food they had 
enjoyed in Egypt, and to lament the absence of flesh meat, he 
sent them quails indeed, but accompanied the gift with a very 
great plague, of which large numbers perished (Num. xi. 4-34). 
When they were dismayed by the reports brought them con- 
cerning the inhabitants of Palestine, and oomplained of their 
God for the position he had brought them into, he again fell 
into a rage and proposed to destroy them all by pestilence 
except Moses. But Moses a second time appealed to him on 
what seems to have been his weak side,— his regard for his 
reputation among the Egyptians. The-e had all heard of what 
he had been doing, and would not they and the other neighbor- 
ing nations ascribe the destruction of the Isrealites in the wil- 
derness to his inability to bring them into the promised laud ? 
Moved by this reasoning, Jehovah consented to spare the peo- 
ple, but determined at the same time to avenge himself upon 
them by not permitting any of those that had come from 



596 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

Egypt (except Joshua and Caleb, who had reported in the proper 
spirit about Palestine) to set foot within the country to which 
he had solemnly engaged himself to conduct them (Num. xiv. 
1-39). Thus, they were only saved from the Egyptians to perish 
in the wilderness. Truly, the tender mercies of the Lord were 
cruel. 

But the miseries of these unfortunate wanderers were by no 
me-ans ended. When, oppressed by the troubles and weariness 
of the way, they dared to murmur, and inquired of Moses why 
he had brought them out of Egypt to die in the wilderness, 
where there was neither tolerable bread, nor water, the resent- 
ment of Jehovah was excited by this audacity. They ought to- 
have been only too grateful that they had remained alive. 
Jehovah had not caused the earth to swallow them as it had 
done Korali, Datham, and Abiram, with their wives and little 
children, because they had ventured to complain of the govern- 
ment of Moses; nor had he destroyed them by plague, as he 
had destroyed 14,700 people because there had been some ex- 
pressions of dissatisfaction at the sudden death of those seditious 
men. If then they had hitherto escaped destruction, they were 
certainly foolish in complaining of the hardships of the desert. 
At any rate Jehovah soon convinced them that their grumbling 
was useless. No constitutional opposition was permitted in 
those days. Fiery serpents were despatched to bite them, and 
many of them died in consequence. Such was the extent of 
the calamity that Moses, always more merciful than his God, 
interceded for his people; and was directed to set up a brazen 
serpent, by looking at which the bites of the living serpents 
were healed (Num. xxi. 1-9). 

The extraordinary cruelty ascribed by the Hebrews to their 
national deity is shown in many other instances besides those 
that have been mentioned. And it is to be noticed that it is 
cruelty mingled with caprice. No one could tell beforehand 
l^recisely what actions he would visit with punishment, nor 
what would be the punishment with which he would visit them. 
Everything with him was uncertain. He had no iSxed system of 
laws at all, and he sometimes condemned a criminal in virtue 
of ex post facto legislation. The deluge is an example of all 
these vices combined. It was an excessively cruel punishment; 



THE GOD OF ISRAEL. 597 

it was inflicted capriciously, and once in a way only, because 
God had changed his mind as to the propriety of having created 
man; and it was the result of a resolution arrived at after the 
offenses it was designed to chastize had already been commit- 
ted. No human being could possibly have guessed beforehand 
that his crimes would be punished in that particular way. Arid 
after the crimes of the antediluvians had been thus punished, 
the survivors received a promise that no misconduct on their 
part would ever be visited, upon them in the same way. So that 
any conceivable utility which the deluge might have had as a 
warning for the future was utterly destroyed. Equal caprice, 
though not equal cruelty, was shown towards the builders of 
the tower of Babel, who were suffered to begin their labors 
without hindrance, but were afterwards sto}iped by the confu- 
sion of iheir languages. Why it was wrong to erect such a 
tower is never stated. Could any of those engaged upon it have 
guessed that the attempt was one deserving of punishment ? 
Still worse was Jehovah's behavior to the prophet Balaam, for 
he first ordered him to go with the men who were sent for 
him, and then was angiy with him because he went (Num. xxii. 
20, 22). Such conduct was on a level with that of a pettish 
woman. Instances of barbarous severity may be found in 
abundance. Nadab and Abihu, sons of Aaron, were devoured 
by "fire from the Lord," because they had taken their censers, 
and offered strange fire before him (Lev. x. 1, 2). A man who 
on the father's side was Egyptian, was ordered to be stoned for 
blaspheming and cursing the name of the Lord; Jehovah being 
peculiarly eager in avenging personal affronts (Lev. xxiv. 10-16). 
On this occasion no doubt a general law was announced affixing 
the i~>enalty of stoning to the offiense of blasphemy; but the 
law was ex post facto so far as the individual who suffered by 
its operation was concerned. On another occasion the heads of 
the people were ordered to be all hung for whoredom with the 
daughters of Moab, and for idolatry. Phinehas, Aaron's son, 
seeing an Israelite with a Midianitish woman, ran then both 
through the body with a* javelin ; for which heroic exploit 
against an unprepared man and a defenseless women he was 
specially praised ; was declared to have turned away God's 
wrath from Israel, and received a "covenant of peace" for 



598 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

himself and his posterity (Num. xxv. 1-15). At a much later 
period, when David was causing the ark to be brought back 
from the Philistines, an unfortunate man who had put out his 
hand to touch it because the oxen shook it, was immediately- 
slain ; an act at which even the pious David was displeased, and 
which caused him, not unnaturally, to be "afraid before the 
Lord that day" (2 Sam. vi. 6-9). In the reign of Jeroboam a 
prophet who had only been guilty of the involuntary error of 
believing another prophet who had told him a falsehood, was 
killed by a lion sent expressly for his punishment, while the 
man who had deceived him escaped scot free (1 Kings xiii. 1-32). 
Another man suffered for refusing to obey the word of a prophet 
what this one had suffered for obeying it. Being desired by one 
of the '*sons of the prophets" to smite him so as to cause a 
wound, aad having declined the office, he was informed that for 
his disobedience to the voice of the Lord he would be slain by 
a lion, which accordingly happened (1 Kings xx. 35, 36). Mercy 
towards a conquered enemy was sometimes an actual crime. 
Because he spared Agag, Saul was rejected from being king 
over Israel, and the Lord repented that he had appointed so 
weak-minded a man. Samuel, who was made of sterner stuff, 
had no scruple in carrying out the behests of his God, for he 
'*hewed Agag in pieces before the Lord" (1 Sam. xv). In like 
manner Ahab was reproved tor sparing the life of Ben-hadad, 
King of Syria (1 Kings xx. 42, 43). The same monarch whose 
leniency had thus brought him into trouble was afterwards the 
victim of a sanguinary fraud practiced upon him by Jehovah. 
Tired of his reign, and eager to effect his destruction, the Lord 
put a lying spirit into the mouth of all his prophets, who were 
thus induced to prophesy victory in an engagement which actu- 
ally terminated in his defeat and death (1 Kings xxii. 1-40). 
Observe, that however foolish Ahab may have been in believ- 
ing the false prophets and disbelieving Micaiah, this does not 
excuse Jehovah, who according to his own chosen spokesman, 
deliberately arranged this scheme for the overthrow of the king 
in the court of heaven. Other barbarous deeds followed upon 
this. To gratify Elijah, a hundred men who were guiltless of 
any crime whatever, were consumed by fire (2 Kings i. 9-12), To 
assuage the wounded vanity of Elisha, forty-two little children 



THE GOD OF ISRAEL. 599 

were eaten by bears (2 Kings ii. 23, 24). To maintain the glory 
of the true God, Elijah slaughtered the prophets of Baal to the 
number of many hundreds (1 Kings xviii. 17-40). To reestablish 
the orthodox faith, Jehu got rid of the worshipers of Baal, col- 
lected together by an infamous trick, in one indiscriminate mas- 
sacre; an atrocity for which he was specially praised and 
rewarded by '* the Lord " (2 Kings x. 18-30). 

It is needless to prolong the list of cruelties practiced upon 
private Individuals. But the subject would be incompletely 
treated, did we not observe that the same spirit prevailed in the 
dealings of Jehovah with nations. Thus, when the Israelites 
were about to enter the land of Canaan, they were desired 
utterly to destroy the seven nations who possessed it already 
(Deut. vii. 2). When they captured Jericho, they slew all its 
inhabitants, young and old, except the household of the prosti- 
tute with whom their messengers had lodged, and who had 
shamelessly betrayed her countrymen. Her, with her family 
they saved (Josh. vi. 1-25). All the inhabitants of Ai were 
utterly destroyed (Josh, viii. 26). All the inhabitants of Mak- 
kedah were utterly destroyed (Josh. x. 28). All the inhabitants 
of many other places were utterly destroj^ed (Josh. x. 29-43, and 
xi. 11, 14). One city alone made peace with Israel; all the rest 
were taken in battle, and that because Jehovah had deliber- 
ately and of set purpose hardened the hearts of their inhabi- 
tants, that they might be utterly destroyed (Josh. xi. 20). 

Such a catalogue of crimes — and the number is by no means 
exhausted — would be sufficient to destroy the character of any 
pagan divinity whatsoever. I fail to perceive why the Jews 
alone should be privileged to represent their God as guilty of 
such actions without suffering the inference which in other 
cases would undoubtedly be drawn — namely, that their concep- 
tions of deity were not of a very exalted order, nor their prin- 
ciples of morals of a very admirable kind. There is, indeed, 
nothing extraordinary in the fact that, living in a barbarous 
age, the ancient Hebrews should have behaved barbarously. 
The reverse would rather be surprising. But the remarkable 
fact is, that their savage deeds, and the equally savage ones 
attributed to their God, should have been accepted by Christen- 
dom as flowing in the one case from the commands, in the other 



600 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

from the immediate action of a just and beneficent Being. 
When the Hindus relate the story of Brahma's incest with his 
daughter, they add that the god was bowed down with shame 
on account of his subjugation by ordinary passion (O. S. T., vol. 
i. p. 112). But while they thus betray their feeling that even a 
divine being is not superior to all the standards of morality, no 
such consciousness is ever apparent in the narrators of the pas- 
sions of Jehovah. While far worse offenses are committed by 
him, there is no trace in his character of the grace of shame. 

Turning now to the legislation which emanated from him, we 
shall find evidence of the same spirit which has been seen to 
mark his daily dealings. It is impossible here to examine that 
legislation in detail, and it may be freely couceded*thatmuCh of 
it was well adapted to the circumstances under which it was 
delivered. Some of the precepts given are indeed trivial, such as 
the order to the Israelites not to round the corners of their 
' heads, nor mar the corners of their beards (Lev. xix. 27), and 
others are [such as are] merely special to the Hebrew religion. 
But the mass of enactments may very probably have been wise, 
or, at least, not conspicuously the reverse. Those to which the 
chief exception must be taken, are such as demonstrate the 
essentially inhuman character of the authority from whom they 
emanated. Thus, deatli is the penalty affixed to the insignificant 
offense of Sabbath-breaking (Ex. xxxv. 2). If the nearest rela- - 
tion, or even the wife of his bosom, or the friend who is as his 
own soul, secretly entice a man to go and worship other gods, 
he himself is to put the tempter to death, his own hand being 
the first to fling the stones by which" he is to perish (Deut. xiii. 
G-11). The Inquisition itself could have no more detestable law 
than this. If it is a city that is guilty of such heresy, it is to 
be burnt down, and all its inhabitants put to the sword (Deut. 
xiii. 12-16). The mere worship of pagan divinities, apart from 
any effort to seduce others, is likewise punished with stoning 
(Deut. xvii. 2-7). In cities not in Palestine, taken in war, all the 
males only are to be put to death; but in the cities of Pales- 
tine itself, nothing that breathes is to be saved alive (Deut. xx. 
13-18). A " stubborn and rebellious son " may be put to death 
by stoning, and that at the instance of his parents (Deut. xxi. 
18-21). In appearance this terrible process for dealing with a 



THE GOD OF ISRAEL. 601 

naughty boy is less severe than the patria potestas of the Eo- 
maus, by which the power of life and death was lodged in the 
lather alone. Practically, however, the exercise of this unlimited 
legal right was prevented to a large extent, for a religious curse 
rested on the father who even sold his married son, and he 
could not pronounce sentence on any child till after consulting 
the nearest blood-relations on both sides, without incurriug the 
same anathema (Mommsen, History of Kome, vol. i. p. 65). No 
doubt the purely legal power of the head of the family was un- 
affected by these restraints. Human authority still permitted 
him to expose his children at birth, to sell them, or to sentence 
them to death. But the difference between Eoman and Jewish 
institutions waSj that in Eome, religion sought to mitigate the 
cruelty of the civil law; in PaL stine, religion not only did noih- 
ing to soften, but positively sanctioned, by its august commands 
the most revolting enactments of barbaric legislation. It is 
true that no instance is known to history of the employment of 
this law by Jews against their children, but this can only show 
that their parental morality was superior to the morality of the 
divine law. At a much later time than that at which this 
enactment was given, when the Israelites returned from the 
Captivity, the same harsh and intolerant spirit as we have 
observed in their earlier legislation broke forth again. By a 
.cruet measure, enacted by Ezra, the representative of Jehovah, 
and taking the form of. a covenant with God, the people were 
forced to repudiate all their wives who were not of pure Israel- 
itish blood (Ezra, ix, and x). Kehemiah, who was likewise zeal- 
ous in the service of Jehovah, was no less an enemy to " out- 
landish women," and took rather strong measures against those 
who had married them, such as cursing the<n, smiting them, 
plucking off their hair, and making them swear not to give 
their sons or daughters in marriage to foreigners (Neh. xiii. 
23-28). 

Such being the moral characteristics of the Hebrew God, can 
it be said that the intellectual ideas of the divine nature found 
in the Old Testament are of a highly refined and spiritual 
order ? On the contrary, as compared with the gods of other 
races, Jehovah is remarkably anthropomorphic and material- 
istic. He does not approach in spirituality to the higher con- 



602 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

ceptions of the Hindus, nor is he even equal to those of- less 
subtle and speculative nations. He is on a level with the gods 
of popular mythologies, but not with those more mysterious 
powers who often stand above them. The evidence of this 
proposition is to be found in the whole tenor of the historical 
books. Thus, in the very beginning of Genesis, we find that he 
*' rested on the seventh day," (Gen. ii. 2) as if he were a being 
altogether apart from the forces of nature, and might leave the 
world to go on without him. A little later he is found "walk- 
ing in the garden in the cool of the day" (Gen. iii. 8). He 
clearly had a body resembling that of man, for on one occasion 
Moses was so highly favored as to be permitted to see his 
"back parts," and was covered with his hand while he was 
passing by. His face Moses was not permitted to behold, as it 
would have caused his death (Ex. xxxiii. 20-23). In order to 
pass by he "descended" in a cloud, implying local habitation, 
and at this time he magniloquently proclaimed his own titles 
and virtues, which he might more gracefully have employed an 
angel to do for him. Elsewhere it is stated that Moses and the 
elders "saw the God of Israel," and that he had some sort of 
paved work of sapphire stone under his feet. When Moses 
went up alone into the mount, "the sight of the glory of the 
Lord was like devouring fire." God was at this time supposed 
to be on the mount, and there held discourse with Moses (Ex. 
xxiv. 10-25). In the course of it he says that he will "com- 
mune " from above the mercy-seat in the tabernacle, again (as 
in so many other places) implying occupation of definite space 
(Ex. XXV. 22). He promises to "dwell among the children of 
Israel," that is, to be a national and local God (Ex. xxix. 45, 
46). Confirmatiofi of the view here taken of his limited nature 
is found in the fact that he thought it necessary to "go down" 
to Sodom and Gomorrah, to verify the reports which had 
reached him concerning the conduct of their inhabitants. And 
when Abraham appealed to him for mercy for those of them 
who were righteous, his several answers clearly implied that 
when he went to those cities he would discover how many of 
them came under that denomination. "If I find in Sodom fifty 
righteous," and so forth, is the language of one who does not 
know a fact, but is going to ascertain it. And accordingly at 



TOKENS OF A BETTER IDEAL. 603 

the end of the colloquy " the Lord went his way" (Gen. xviii. 
20-33). So completely anthropomorphic is the conception of 
deity that, although the expression occurs only in a parable, it 
is not at variance with the mode in which he is usually spoken 
of when wine is said "to cheer God and man" (Judg. ix. 13). 
Evidently there was nothing shocking to the Hebrew mind in 
such an expression. And when they pictuied their God as 
walking, talking, indignant, angry, repenting, jealous, showing 
himself to human beings, and generally indulging in the pas- 
sions of mortals, it was perfectly easy to conceive that wine 
might exercise the same effect on him as it did on them. 

No doubt the Hebrew mythology is free from all that class 
of stories in which a divine being is represented as making love 
to or cohabiting with women. Or, to speak more accurately, 
they never represent Jehovah himself as indulging in such 
amusements. There is a reminiscence of this form of myth in 
the statement that before the deluge the sons of God intermar- 
ried with the daughters of men (Gen. vi. 2); but their supreme 
Being was free at least from sexual passion. So far as it goes, 
this is well ; but if I had to choose between a God who was 
somewhat licentious in his relations with mankind, and one 
who did not stick at deeds of bloodshed of the most outrageous 
character, I confess I should see no very powerful reason to 
prefer the latter. 

That, in spite of all these drawbacks, there are some better 
elements in the Hebrew ideal I do not at all deny. The poeti- 
cal description of God as a "still small voice" is both eloquent 
and spiritual; and the prayer of Solomon, with its admission 
that the heaven of heavens cannot contain the Infinite Power 
who is entreated to dwell in the Temple, is in many respects 
beautiful and admirable. So also the views of Jehovah attained 
and uttered by some of the prophets are far loftier than those 
generally expressed in the historical books. Many of the 
Psalms, again, are full of beauty in the manner in which they 
speak of him to whom they are addressed. In a nation so 
deeply religious as the Jews, and so much given to meditation 
on God, it was inevitable that the higher class of minds should 
conceive him more spiritually than the lower, and it is this 
class to whom we owe the poetical and prophetic writings. It 



604 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

was inevitable also that as civilization advanced, the grosser 
elements of the conception, which belonged to a barbarous peo- 
ple, should be eliminated, and that the finer ones should 
remain. The entire supersession of the older God by the newer 
was prevented by the fact that the Old Testament was a sacred 
book, and that hence every one of its statements had to be 
received as absolutely true. The inconsistency between the 
wrathful monarch of ancient times and the loving Spirit of 
more recent ages was sought to be surmounted by those pro- 
cesses of interpretation which have been shown to be invaria- 
bly adopted when it is desired to bring the infallible Scriptures 
of any nation into harmony with the opinions of their readers. 
But happily the language of the historical portions of the Old 
Testament is singularly plain, and no ingenious manipulation 
of the text can with the smallest plausibility put aside the ob- 
vious meaning of the broad assertions on which is founded the 
above delineation ©f the God of Israel. 

Section VIII.— The New Testament. 

Since a considerable portion of the New Testament has 
already been dealt with in the life of Jesus, we have only, in 
the present section, to consider the remaining works of which 
it is composed. These will not require a very elaborate treat- 
ment. They consist of one historical book, continuing the his- 
tory of the Christian community from the death of its founder 
till the imprisonment of Paul at Eome, of letters, partly gen- 
uine, partly spurious, bearing the names of eminent apostles as 
their authors, and of one composition somewhat akin in its 
nature to the writings of the Hebrew prophets. Of these sev- 
eral parts of the New Testament (excluding the Gospels) some 
of ihe Epistles are probably the most ancient; but as it would 
be difQcult to establish any precise chronological sequence 
among the several books, it will be most convenient to begin 
with that which stands first in actual order. 

Subdivision 1.— The Acts of the Apostles. 

The author of the third gospel, having written the life of 
Jesus, proceeded to compose, in addition to it, a history of the 



THE GIFT OF TONGUES 605 

proceedings of his apostles after his decease. We are greatly- 
indebted to him for having done so, for this book is, notwith- 
standing some extravagances, of considerable value, and is the 
most trustworthy of the five historical books in the New Testa- 
ment. It brought the narrative, of events nearer to the date at 
which it was written that the gospel could do, and it dealt with 
events concerning which better evidence was accessible to the 
writer. There was thus not the same scope for fiction as there 
had been in the life of Christ. Nevertheless the story of the 
Acts of the Apostles is .by no means free from legendary ad- 
mixture. 

Beginning with the ascension, which has been already noticed 
in connection with the gospel, it proceeds to relate the choice 
of a new apostle in place of the unfaithful Judas. The cere- 
mony by which the choice was made evinces a singular super- 
stition on the part of the apostles. Having selected two men, 
Joseph and Matthias, they simply prayed that God would show 
which he had chosen. They then drew lots, and the lot fell 
upon Matthias (Acts i. 15-26). 

The next important event in the history of the Church thus 
recruited, was the reception of the Holy Ghost on the day of 
Pentecost. On this occasion the Christians were all assembled, 
when suddenly there was a sound like that of strong wind; 
cloven tongues appeared and sat upon them; they were filled 
with the Holy Ghost, and suddenly acquired the power of 
speaking foreign languages (Acts ii. 1-13). Since the "gift of 
tongues " has not been unknown in certain communities in 
recent times, we might perhaps form a tolerably correct notion 
from the reports of modern observers as to what the scene 
among the disciples was like. Even, however, without this 
modern experience, we should not be altogether in the dark as 
to the character of the phenomenon of which the author and 
of the Acts makes. For although it is indeed stated that some 
of the strangers who were present heard each his own language 
spoken* by the disciples, it is added that the conviction pro- 
duced upon other.-3 was that the Christians were drunk. It 
must have been a wild and singular exhibition which could 
lead to the formation of such an opinion. But if we wanted 
further explanation we should find it in the words of Paul, 



606 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

whose strong practical judgment led him to- depreciate the value 
of the gift of tongues as compared with that of preaching. 
Had this gift consisted in the power of speaking their own lan- 
guages to foreign nations, there is none to whom it would have 
been of greater service than the apostle of the Gentiles. Yet 
it is he who tells us that at a meeting he would rather speak 
five words with his understanding, that he might teach others 
also, than ten thousand in a tongue. So that the words spoken 
"in tongues" were not spoken with the understanding; they 
were mere sounds without a meaning to him who uttered them. 
Equally clear is the evidence of Paul to the fact that they were 
without a meaning to him who heard them. His reason for de- 
siring his correspondents to cultivate the gift of prophesying 
(or preaching) rather than that of tongues is that "he that 
speaks In a tongue speaks not to men, but to God, for nobody 
understands him, but in the spirit he speaks mysteries. But he 
that preaches speaks to men edification, and exhortation, and 
comfort. He that speaks in a tongue edifies himself; but he 
that preaches edifies the Church " (1 Cor. xiv. 2-4). Tongues, he 
says further on, are for a sign to unbelievers ; that is, they are 
of use merely to impress the senses of those whose minds can- 
not yet be appealed to. But if the unbelieving or unlearned 
should happen to enter a meeting where the disciples were all 
speaking with tongues, they would consider them mad: a 
striking testimony to the tumultuous character of scenes like 
that presented by the ehthusiastic assembly of the Christians 
at Pentecost. Hence Paul desires that two, or at most three, 
should speak with tongues at a time, and that there should 
always be somebody to interpret, in other words, to translate 
nonsense into sense. Without an interpreter, he would not 
sanction any exercise of his peculiar faculty on the part of the 
inspired linguist (1 Cor. xiv. 1-28). 

To satisfy the doubts of those who attributed the sudden 
attainments of the apostles to intoxicating drinks, Peter deliv- 
ered-a discourse, which ended in the addition of 3,000 members 
to the rising sect. It is remarkable that these new members at 
once became communists, both they and all the disciples hav- 
ing all things in common ; a noteworthy indication of what was 
required by the religion of Christ as understood by his immedi- 



STOBY OF ANANIAS AND SAPPHIRA. 607 

ate disciples (Acts ii. 14-47). Further evidence, if any were 
needed, of the communistic character of the Church is contained 
at the end of the fourth chapter, while the fifth informs us of 
the tolerabl}^ severe measures taken to enforce it. "There was 
one heart and one soul among the multitude of those who 
believed, nor did a single one say that any of the things he 
possessed was his own; but they had all things common." 
Unhappily the one heart and one mind did not extend to Ananias 
or to his wife Sapphira, for this naughty couple "sold a j^os- 
session and kept back part of the price." But Peter was not 
thus to be taken in. It does not appear from the account that 
Ananias was asked whether the sum he produced was the 
whole price of the land, or that he told any falsehood regarding 
it. However, Peter remarked that he might have kept either 
the property or its price, had he thought proper, and charged 
him with lying to God; whereupon the poor man fell down 
dead. About three hours later, Sapphira came in ; and she dis- 
tinctly stated that the sum produced by Ananias was the full 
price. Peter told her that the feet of those who had buried her 
husband were at the door, and would carry her out too. She 
then fell down at his feet, and expired in her turn (Acts. iv. 
31-v. 11). 

No wonder that "great fear came upon all the Church" 
when they heard these things. Peter's proceedings were indeed 
alarming, and could we for a moment accept the account of his 
historian, we should have no option but to hold him guilty of 
the wilful murder of Sapphira. He knew, according to his own 
statement, what the effect of his words upon this woman would 
be, and he should have abstained from any expression that 
could bring about so terrible a catastrophe. Happily, we may 
reject the whole story as either a fiction or a perversion of fact. 
Had it been true, it would have called for very much sterner 
measures than those taken by the Sanhedrim, who, having 
already desired Peter and John to keep silence about the new 
religion, now merely imprisoned the apostles, and afterwards, on 
the prudent advice of Gamaliel, determined to release them; 
not indeed till after they had beaten them and again prohibited 
their propagandist efforts (Acts v. 17-42). It is interesting to 
observe that Luke effects the deliverance of the apostles from 



608 HOLY BOOKS. OE BIBLES. 

prison by the intervention of an angel, and that at a later 
period, when Peter had been imprisoned by Herod, he a.uain 
gets him out by means of an angel v/ho appears to him while 
sleeping, and at whose presence his chains fall off (Acts xii. 
1-19). This is quite in accordance with the proceedings of the 
same author in the gospel, where his partiality for angels as 
part of his theatrical machinery has been shown to be charac- 
teristic. 

The infant community was now increasing in numbers, and 
along with this increase there arose the customary consequences 
— dissension and mutual distrust. We are fortunate in possess- 
ing in the Acts an account of the very first quarrel in the 
Church; the earliest symptom of those discords and hostilities, 
which, since that time, have so incessantly raged within her 
limits. It was on a question of money; the Greeks murmuring 
against the Hebrews, because they thought their widows were 
neglected in the daily ministration. The apostles tided over 
the immediate difficulty by appointing subordinate officers to 
attend to matters of business. The plan succeeded; but their 
peace was soon to be disturbed again by graver questions (Acts 
vi. 1-8). 

Among those appointed to superintend the pecuniary interests 
of the Church was one named Stephen. This man is reported 
to have performed great wonders and miracles, but some of the 
Jews accused him of blasphemy, and after an eloquent defense, 
which to Jewish ears amounted to an admission of the charge, 
he was sentenced to death by stoning. Foremost in the execu- 
tion of the sentence was a man named Saul, who was conspicu- 
ous at) this time for the bitterness with which he pursued the 
Christians, entering their private houses, and causing them to 
be imprisoned (Acts vi. 9-viii. 3). 

If any proof were needed of the entire conscientiousness of 
the Jewish persecutors of Christianity at this time we should 
find it in the character of Saul. Of the honesty of his religious 
zeal, of the single-minded sense of duty from which he acted in 
his anti-Christian period, his subsequent career makes it impos- 
sible to entertain a doubt. Men like the apostle Paul are not 
made out of selfish, dishonest, or cruel natures. He was at the 
martyrdom of Stephen as honorable and fearless an upholder of 



CONVERSION OF PAUL. 609 

the ancient faith as he was afterwards to the new. He himself 
several times refers in his writings to his persecution of tlie 
Church, and always in the tone of a man who had nothing to be 
ashamed of but a mistake in judgment. As touching the right- 
eousness which is in the law, he tells us he was blameless (Phil, 
iii. 6). And although in intellectual power he was doubtless 
above the average of his class, in point of genuine devotion to 
his creed, he may fairly be taken as a type of the men with 
whom he consented to act. 

Saul had probably been impressed by the conduct of the 
Christians, whom he had so ruthlessly delivered up to justice. 
At any rate the subject of the Christian religion had taken great 
hold upon his mind, for on his way to Damascus he saw a vis- 
ion which induced him to become himself a follower of Jesus. 
It is unfortunate that we have no detailed account of the nature 
of the event which led to his conversion from Paul himself. 
He often alludes to it, but nowhere describes it. 

The most important passage bearing upon the subject is in 
the Second Epistle to the Corinthians, where he thus mysteri- 
ously refers to his experience on this occasion: *'I knew a man 
in Christ above fourteen years ago (whether in the body I do 
not know, whether out of the body I do not know) such an one 
caught up to the third heaven. And I knew such a man 
(whether in the body, whether out of the body, God knows), 
that he was caught up into paradise, and heard unspeakable 
words, which it is not lawful for a man to utter" (2 Cor. xii. 2-4). 
So far as it goes, this account does not very well agree with 
that of the Acts, since there we are told exactly what were the 
words Paul heard, and what he answered. We are left in doubt 
then whether the conversation between Christ and the apostle 
there related rests on the authority of Paul himself, or repre- 
sents merely the imagination of others as to what might have 
passed between them. But that Paul saw some kind of vision, 
which he himself believed to be a vision of Christ, there can be 
no doubt. 

From Luke we have two versions of tliis incident, one in the 
form of historical narrative, the other in that of a speech put 
into the mouth of Paul. According to these he saw a light, and 
heard a voice saying, "Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me?" 



610 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

On inquiry, he learnt that the voice emanated from Jesus, and 
he was desired to proceed to Damascus, where further instruc- 
tions would be given him. Luke has not taken sufQcient pains 
to make his two versions harmonize, for in the first we are told 
that his companions heard a voice, but saw no man ; in the 
second that they saw the light, but did not hear the voice of 
him that spoke (Acts ix. 7, and xxii. 9). At Damascus a man 
named Ananias, directed also by a vision, went to Saul to 
restore his sight, which had been destroyed for the moment by 
the brilliancy of the celestial light. After this, Saul, subse- 
quently called Paul, escaping from the pursuit of the Jews who 
had designs upon his life, began to preach in the name of 
Jesus (Acts ix. 1-31). 

Another convert of some consideration, from his official posi- 
tion and from the fact that he was a heathen, was added to the 
community about this time. This was Cornelius, the Cen'turion 
of the Italian band. Cornelius was a religious man, much given 
to prayer. Tired perhaps of visions, of which there had been 
two in the last chapter and was to be another in this, Luke 
introduces his angel — a sort of supernumerary ever ready to 
appear when wanted — to effect the conversion of Cornelius'. 
The angel told him to apply to Peter, now at Joppa, for further 
advice as to what he should do. Meanwhile Peter had on his 
part been prepared by a vision of unclean beasts, which he was 
desired to eat, for the reception of the Gentile embassy, and the 
admission of Gentiles to the flock. He accordingly proceeded 
to Cassarea, where Cornelius was, and baptized both him and 
other heathens, upon whom, to the great astonishment of the 
Jews, the Holy Ghost was poured out and the gift of tongues 
conferred. Thus did the Church of Christ begin, timidly and 
feeling her way with caution, to extend her boundaries beyond 
the limits of the Hebrew people (Acts x). 

Some scandal was created in the congregation at Jerusalem 
by Peter's violation of Jewish rules in dining with unciicum- 
cised people, but there was no gainsaying a vision like that 
which he produced in reply. Shortly after these events the 
apostle James, one of those two brothers whose mother had 
petitioned that they might sit on two thrones, one on each- side 
of Jesus, when his kingdom came, was executed by Herod, the 



PAUL TAKEN FOR A GOD. 611 

tetrarch; who also imprisoned Peter, but was unable to keep 
him on account of the angelic intervention mention above. 
The death of this monarch from a painful internal diaease, is 
curiously perverted by the writer into a sudden judgment of 
God, inflicted upon him because he accepted divine honors at 
the hands of his flatterers (Acts xi. xii). 

The history now proceeds to follow the fortunes of Paul. It 
is stated that there were at Antioch certain prophets and teach- 
ers, who were inspired by the Holy Ghost to appoint Barnabas 
and Saul to the work whereunto they were called. Having laid 
their hands upon them, they sent them away. Paul now began 
to travel from place to place, making converts among the 
heathen. At Paphos he met with a Jewish sorcerer named 
Elymas, who he caused to be blind for a season, thereby induc- 
ing the Koman proconsul Sergius Paulus to believe in Christian- 
ity, which had thus shown itself able to produce more powerful 
sorcerers than the rival creed (Acts xiii. 1-12). 

It is a striking proof of the liberality of the Jews at this 
period that when Paul and his companions had gone into the 
synagogue of Antioch in Pisidia, the rulers of the synagogue 
invited them to speak; a freedom which even in the present 
day would scarcely be granted in any Christian Church to those 
who were regarded as heretics. Paul took advantage of the 
proffered opportunity to deliver a speech which ended in the 
conversion of some of the Jews. On the following Sabbath 
great crowds came to heat Paul, but the Jews, as was natural, 
opposed him and contradicted him. After this they stirred up 
pious women and the principal men of the city against Paul 
and Barnabas, aud (it is stated) expelled them from their 
coasts (Acts xiii. 50). These apostles having already determined 
to go (Acts xiii. 46), it was not a severe treatment that was thus 
inflicted on them. They, however, left Antioch in no very 
charitable frame of mind, for they shook off the dust of their 
feet against its inhabitants (Acts xiii. 14r-52), 

The cure of an impotent man at Lystra led the multitude of 
that place to adore Paul and Barnabas as gods. Paul, as the 
orator, they called Hermes, and Barnabas, Zeus. The priest of 
Zeus brought oxen and garlands, and intended to sacrifice to 
them, an intention which the people were barely prevented, by 



612 HOLY BOOKS.' OR BIBLES. 

the indignant protests of the two apostles, from carrying into 
effect (Acts xiv. 8-18). This was not the only occasion on which 
Paul was taken for a god ; for when he was cast by shipwreck on 
the island of Melita, his escape from injury by a venomous rep- 
tile which had fastened on his hand was regarded by the savages 
Df that island as a proof of divinity (Acts xxviii. 1-6). 

Extremely similar to these incidents, especially to the first, 
is a circurtistance recounted by Sir Erancis Drake in his voyage 
of circumnavigation. His vessel having sprung a leak, while 
he was exploring the coast of North America, was brought to 
anchor to be repaired, and the sailors landed to build tents and 
make a fort for purposes of defense. The natives approached 
them in companies, armed, and as if designing an attack, but 
it appeared that they had " no hostile meaning or intent ;" for 
when they came near, they stood "as men ravished in their 
minds, with the sight of such things as they never had' seen 
or heard of before that time: their errand being rather with 
submission and feare to worship us as gods, than to have any 
warre with us as with mortall men. Which thing, as it did partly 
show itself at that instant, so did it more an(J more manifest itself 
afterwards, during the whole time of our abode amongst them." 
The General gave them materials for clothing, "withall signi- 
fying unto them we were no gods, but men, and had neede of 
such things to cover our own shame; teaching them to use 
them for the same ends, for which cause wee did eate and 
drinke in their presence, giving them to understand that with- 
out that wee could not live, and therefore were but men as well 
as they" ("we also are men of like passions with you") (Acts 
xiv. 15). "Notwithstanding nothing could persuade them, nor 
remove that opinion which they had conceived of us, that wee 
should be gods" (W. E., p. 120). 

And, as the heathens of Lystra were eager to sacrifice to 
Barnabas and Paul, so those of this country actually conferred 
this mark of divinity upon some of the white men in the com- 
pany of Drake, nor were the utmost protests of the travelers 
of avail to put a stop to what appeared to them, just as it did 
to the apostles, an impious rite, derogating from the honor due 
to the true God. The people had come in a large body, accom- 
panied by their king, to make a formal presentation of the sov- 



A PARALLEL CASE. 613 

ereigntyto him, and the king had made over into his hands the 
insignia of the roj'al office, when tlie scene now described by- 
Sir Francis tooli place. 

** The ceremonies of this resigning and receiving of the Kingdome 
being thus performed," says Sir Francis, "the common sort, both of 
men and women, leaving the king and his guard about him, with our 
Generall, dispersed themselves among our people, taking a diligent view 
or survey of every man; and finding such as pleased their fancies (which 
commonly were the youngest of ^ us), they presently enclosing them 
about offred tlieir sacrifices unto them crying out with lamentable 
shreekes and moanes, weeping and scratching and tearing their very 
flesh off their faces with their nails ; neither were it the women alone 
which did this, but even old men, roaring and crying out, were as vio- 
lent as the women were. 

*' We groaned in spirit to see the power of Sathan so farre prevaile 
in seducing these, so harmlesse soules, and labored by a,\\ meanes, both 
by shewing our great dislike, and when that served not, by violent with- 
holding of their hands from that madnesse, directing them (by our eyes 
and hands lift up towards heaven) to the living God whom they ought 
to serve ; but so mad were they upon their Idolatry, that forcible with- 
holding them would not prevaile (for as soon as they could get liberty 
to their hands againe, they would be as violent as they were before) till 
such time, as they whom they worshiped were conveyed from them into 
the tents, whom yet as men besides themselves, they would with fury 
and outrage seeke to have again" (W. E., p. 129). 

We are again reminded of the Acts: "And with these say- 
ings scarce restrained they the people, that they had not done 
sacrifice unto them " (Atits xiv. 18). 

An unfortunate change in the popular mind soon occurred; 
for on the arrival of some Jews who stirred them up to hostil- 
ity against the Apostles, they flew from one extravagance to 
another, and stoned Paul so severely that he was left by them 
for dead. But as the disciples stood about him he rose, and 
was able to continue his journey on the next day. 

The Christians at Jerusalem were now required to consider 
the difficult question of the circumcision of the Gentiles; their 
decision upon which has already been discussed. After the 
council Paul (who had returned to Antioch) proposed to revisit 



eU HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

the places where he had formerly preached, and Barnabas in- 
tended to go with him). But a difference of opinion as to 
whether they should take Mark with them led to a violent 
quarrel between these two apostles ; as the result of which Paul 
chose Silas as his companion, and left Barnabas to pursue his 
own course with his friend Mark (Acts xv). 

The writer now follows the fortunes of Paul in his missionary 
work in various countries, and it is remarkable that in the six- 
teenth chapter he drops the third person, and begins to speak 
in the first person plural, implying that he himself was one of 
the company. The fact that from this point onwards the book 
becomes practically not the Acts of the Apostles, but the Acts 
of Paul, who is evidently the hero of the story, indicates an 
author who belonged to the Pauline section of the Church, and 
to whom Paul was the chief living embodiment of the Christian 
faith. "Who this author was — whether Silas, or some bther 
companion — it would be hard to say, but he seems to have 
written under the direct inspiration of Paul himself. 

Increased by the addition of Timotheus, the party, guided 
by a vision seen by Paul of a Macedonian entreating them to 
come, went into Macedonia. At Philippi they met with some 
success among women, making particular friends with a parple- 
seller named Lydia. But the conversion of a divining girl who 
was a source of profit to her employers, led to the imprison- 
ment of Paul and Silas, from which, however, an opportune 
e^prthquake set theha free (Acts xvi). 

At Athens Paul made a speech on the Areopagos, in which 
he ingeniously availed himself of an altar he had noticed, in- 
scribed "To an Unknown God," to maintain that this unknown 
God was no other than the Jehovah of the Jews (Acts xvii. 16- 
34). At Corinth he was allowed to preach every Sabbath in the 
synagogue (as he had done at Thessalonica, and did again at 
Ephesus), another evidence of the tolerant spirit of the Jews as 
compared with Christians. Not, of course, that the Jews were 
not bigoted adherents of their narrow creed, or that they had 
any scruple about supporting it by physical force; but they 
■were willing to allow those who had a reformation to propose 
to be heard in the sonagogues. The effect, as might be ex- 
pected, was to embitter those who remained orthodox against 



PAUL'S TEODBLES IN JERUSALEM. 615 

PauL But an atteilipt on their part to bring him under the 
jurisdiction of the civil tribunals failed, and after remaining a 
long time at Corinth, he went on to Ephesus, and thence con- 
tinued his course through Galatia and Phrygia (Acts xviii. 1-23). 
An eloquent and able Alexandrian, Apollos by name, came to 
Ephesus, after Paul had left it. He was a believer in John the 
Baptist, and was received into the Church by Paul's friends, 
Aquila and Priscilla, whom he had left behind. 

A singular incident occurred on a subsequent visit of Paul's 
to Ephesus. He found some disciples there and asked them 
whether they had received the Holy Ghost. They replied that 
they did not even know whether there was a Holy Ghost. 
Such crass ignorance must have astonished Paul, who inquired 
into what they had been baptized. They said, into John's bap- 
tism, and the apostle accordingly baptized them in the name 
of Jesus, with the striking result that they immediately received 
the Holy Ghost and began to spealc in tongues (Acts xix. 1-7). 
Curious incidental evidence is thus supplied by the case of 
Apollos and by that of these Ephesians of the existence of a 
Johannine sect which Christianity superseded and swept into 
oblivion ; and it is remarkable, as affording a presumption that 
the Baptist did not regard himself as the mere precursor of 
Christ, that these Johannists do not appear to have been look- 
ing forward to any further development of their principles such 
as the religion of Jesus supplied. 

At Ephesus Paul preached for three months in the synagogue, 
and then, meeting with much opposition, betook himself to ft 
public room, where he disputed daily. But after he had taught 
two years, a dangerous riot was excited by the tradesmen who 
dealt in silver shrines for the Ephesian Artemis, and Paul, 
after the disturbance had been quelled, determined to go into 
Macedonia (Acts xix. 8-xx. 1). While he was preaching at 
Troas, a young man, who had fallen asleep, fell from the win- 
dow at which he was sitting, and was supposed to have been 
killed. Paul, however, declared that he was still alive, and told 
them not to be disturbed. This opinion proved to bo correct. 
To this simple incident the historian, by stating that he was 
"taken up dead," has contrived to give the aspect of a mira- 
cle. The case exactly resembles the supposed miracle of Jesus, 



ei6 HOLY BOOKS, OR BIBLES. 

discussed above (Supra, voL i. p. 320-323), and is another illus- 
tration of the facility with which natural occurrences may, by 
the turn of a phrase, be converted into marvels (Acts xx. 7-12), 
No arguments were now availing to dissuade the apostle 
from visiting Jerusalem, where it was well known that peril 
awaited him. Arrived at the centre of Judaism, his first busi- 
ness was to clear himself from the suspicions entertained of his 
rationalistic tendencies by taking a vow according to the 
Mosaic ritual. After this the Asiatic Jews raised a clamor 
against him which ended in a dangerous tumult. From the vio- 
lent death which threatened him at the hands of the enraged 
multitude he was rescued by the Eoman troops, under cover of 
whose projection he made his defense before the people (Acts 
xxi. 27-xxii. 21). It naturally did not conciliate the Jews; and 
the Roman officer who had made him prisoner, having been 
deterred from the application of torture by Paul's Eoman 'citi- 
zenship, desired his accusers to appear in court to prefer their 
charges on the following day (Acts xxii. z2-30). But when the 
case came on, Paul ingeniously contrived to set the Pharisees 
against the Sadducees by the assertion that he himself was a 
Pharisee, and that he was charged with believing in" a future 
state. By this not very candid shift he obtained the support of 
the Pharisaic party, and produced among his prosecutors a 
scene of clamor and discord from which it was thought expedi- 
ent to remove him. Defeated in the courts of law, the more 
embittered of his enemies formed a scheme of private assassin- 
ation which was revealed to the captain of the guard by Paul's 
nephew, and from, which he was rescued by being sent by 
night under a strong military escort to the governor of the 
province, a man named Felix (Acts xxiii). Ananias, the high 
priest, and others of the prosecutors, followed Paul to Caesarea 
in five days, but the nature of their charges was such that they 
made little impression upon the mind of the governor. He 
nevertheless kept Paul in confinement, perhaps hoping (as the 
narrator suggests) that he would receive a bribe to set him free 
(Acts xxiv). After two years Festus succeeded Felix, and when 
this governor visited Jerusalem he was entreated by the priests 
to send for Paul, which, however, he refused to do, and required 
the prosecutors to come to him at Caesarea. They went, and 



THE EPISTLES. 617 

charged Paul with offenses which it is said they could not 
prove. When Festus asked him whether he would go to Jeru- 
salem to be tried by him, Paul replied that he ought to be 
tried at Caesar's judgment-seat, as he had done the Jews no 
wrong, and that he appealed to Caesar. The policy of this 
appeal was questionable, for after a time Festus was visited by 
King Agrippa, to whom he related the facts or the case ; and 
the king, having heard the statement of the prisoner himself, 
declared that he might have been set at liberty had he not ap- 
pealed to Caesar (Aobs xxv. xxvi). 

Paul therefore was now sent with a gang of prisoners to 
Rome, on the way to which the ship he was in was wrecked off 
the island of Melita, where the winter months were accordingly 
passed. Here he cured numerous inhabitants of diseases, and 
received high honors in consequence. After three months an 
Alexandrine vessel conveyed the shipwrecked company to the 
capital. Arrived at Rome, Paul summoned the Jews to come to 
the house where, guarded by a soldier, he was allowed to live, 
and endeavored to convert them. Meeting with indifferent suc- 
cess, he dismissed them with insulting words drawn from Isaiah, 
and roundly informed them that the salvation of God was now 
sent to the Gentiles, and that these would hear it (Acts xxvii. 
xxviii). What was the ultimate fate of this great teacher of 
Christianity, whether his case was ever heard, and if so, how it 
was decided; whether he lived a prisoner, or was set free, or 
died a martyr, we have no historical information, and it is use- 
less, in the absence of evidence, to attempt to conjecture. 

Subdivision 2. — Tlie Epistles. 

In the epistles which have been preserved to us, and which 
are no doubt but a few rescued from a much larger correspond- 
ence, the apostoli(3 authors enforce upon their respective con- 
verts or congregations the doctrines of Christianity as under- 
stood by them. They explain the relation of Jesus to the Jew- 
ish law; they inculcate morality; they reply to objections; they 
hold out the prospect of the speedy revolution which they ex- 
pect. Since their opinions on all the topics upon which they 
touch cannot, within the limits of a general treatise, be dis- 



618 HOLY BOOKS, OR BIBLES. 

cussed in detail, all that is necessary now is to glance rapidly 
at the more general characteristics of the several writers. 

A letter addressed to the twelve tribes scattered abroad, and 
traditionally ascribed to the apostle James, may best be taken 
in connection with an anonymous epistle addressed to the He- 
brews. They have these two features in common, that they are 
written to Jewish Christians, and that they discuss the relation 
of faith to works. It is true that this question is treated by 
their authors from opposite points of view. Theological contro- 
versy began early in the history of the Christian Church, and 
its first controversial treatises have been embodied in the Canon 
of its Sacred Books. It appears, moreover, to be highly prob- 
able, not only that the two epistles were written on opposite 
sides of a disputed question, but that the chapter in the one 
dealing with that question was designed as an answer to the 
corresponding chapter in the other. It may bo difficult to say 
which was the original statement, which the reply; but when 
we find the very same examples chosen by both, the one main- 
taining that Abraham and Eahab were justified by faith, 
the other that they were justified by works, it is not easy 
to believe that so exact a coincidence in the mode of treat- 
ing their subject was accidental. The more argumentative 
tone taken by James — as of one answering an opponent — in- 
duces me to believe that his epistle whs the later of the two. 
The author of the Hebrews insists upon the paramount neces- 
sity of faith; showing by a number of historical examples that 
the conduct of the great heroes of the Hebrew race, besides that 
of many inferior models of excellence, was wholly due to this 
cause. The author of James, on the contrary, strenuously 
maintains that faith is of no value without works, and, as if 
endeavoring to set aside the force of the examples produced on 
the other side, selects for his consideration the history of two 
persons who had been held up as illustrations of the doctrine 
that we are justified by faith. Abraham, he says, was not justi- 
fied by faith only, but by works; for he offered Isaac on the 
altar, which was a very practical illustration of his faith (James 
ii. 21-23). Eahab again, who according to you was saved from 
destruction with the unbelievers by faith, was in reality justi- 
fied by works, for it was a work to receive the messengers and 



DISPUTE ABOUT FAITH AND WOKKS. CIO 

send them out another way (James ii. 25). Not that we deny 
the importance of faith altogether; but we do deny the exclu- 
sive position which you, in your Epistle to the Hebrews, assign 
to it. Without works faith is a dead, unproductive thing; like 
a body without its animating spirit. Indeed a man may say to 
him who relies upon his faith alone. Show me your faith with- 
out works, and I will show you mine by my works. What is 
the use of a faith unaccompanied by works? can it save any 
one by itself? Certainly not, answers James; Certainly, says 
the author of the Hebrews. The whole question turns on those 
hair-splitting distinctions in which theologians have ever de- 
lighted; for while the one party considers faith as the pro- 
ducing cause of good actions, the other treats good actions as 
the evidence of faith. Neither the one nor the other really 
meant to question the necessity of either element in the com- 
bination. 

In other respects there is a broad difference between the two 
epistles. That to the Hebrews is Judaic in tone and spirit; its 
main object being to prove that Christ is a sort of high-priest, 
endowed with authority to set aside the old Jewish institutions 
and substitute something better. James is more catholic and 
more practical. He insists upon the necessity of not only hear- 
ing, but doing the word; of keeping the whole moral law; of 
bridling the tongue, and of showing no respect to persons on 
account of their worldly position. He is extremely hostile to 
the rich, and draws a very unfavorable picture of their conduct 
(James ii. C, 7, and v. 1-6). He encourages the poor Christians 
to endure patiently till Christ comes, which will be very soon 
(James v. 7, 8). Lastly, he emphatically urges the duty of pros- 
elytism upon his flock; remarking that one who converts an- 
other when wandering from the truth, both saves the soul of 
the wanderer and hides a multitude of his own sins (James v. 
19, 20). 

Two epistles are attributed to the apostle Peter, the first of 
which, addressed to the strangers in Pontus, Gallatia, Cappado- 
cia, Asia, and Bithynia, purports to be written from Babylon. 
He holds out to his correspondents the hope of salvation which 
they have through Jesus, which is a source of joy, notwithstand- 
ing their present troubles. Among other precepts he counsels 



620 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

husbands and wives as to their mutual behavior; exhorting 
wives to be obedient, and not to care too much for dress; and 
requiring husbands to honor their wives as the weaker vessels 
(1 Pet. iii. 1-7). The Second Epistle of Peter would appear to 
be by a rather later author, for he has read the epistles of 
Paul. He is troubled obout *' false teachers," who introduce 
'* heresies of destruction," and denounces them in no measured 
terms (2 Pet. ii). Having, as above described, comforted the 
Christians for the long delay in the second coming of the Savior, 
he exhorts them not to be led away by the error of the wicked, 
but to grow in grace and in the knowledge of their Lord (2 Pet. 
iii. 17, 18). 

Of the three epistles bearing the name of John, the first 
only is of any considerable length. The style of this epistle is 
extremely simple, and it reads like the kindly talk of an old 
man to children. He tells his flock not to sin, not to love' the 
world, and to love one another. So much does he keep to these 
purely general maxims, that it would be difficult to gather any 
really useful instruction from his benevolent garrulity. It is 
characteristic of him to insist again and again upon love as the 
cardinal virtue of a Christian. Besides this, perhaps the most 
definite advice he gives is to pray for anything desired, and to 
entreat of God the forgiveness of a brother who has committed 
a sin not unto deatli (1 John v. 14-16). With great self-compla- 
cency he calmly asserts that he and his friends are of God, and 
that the whole world lies in wickedness (1 John v. 19) ; a pleas- 
ant mode of putting those towards whom it was impossible to 
practice the love about which he spoke outside of the pale of 
brotherhood. 

The writer of John's second epistle, addressed to a lady and 
her children, illustrates the kind of charity resulting from such 
views as this, when he tells them not to receive into their 
house, nor bid "farewell" to any one who does not hold cor- 
rect doctrines (2 John 10). The third epistle, written to Gains, 
contains little beyond matters of purely personal interest. The 
Epistle of Jude, who calls himself brother of James, denounces 
certain "ungodly men," who have "crept in unawares," and 
are doing great mischief in the Church. It is principally inter- 
esting from its reference to the legend of the contest of Michael 



PAUL'S APOSTLESHIP. 621 

the archangel with the devil for the body of Moses, which pop- 
ular tale the writer seems to accept as unquestionably authen- 
tic (Jude 9). 

Having thus referred to the writings which bear, whether 
correctly or not, the names of the original apostles of Jesus, we 
oome tp those of one who was far greater than any of these — 
the apostle who was not converted until after the death of his 
Master. Paul, to whom the great majority of the epistles pre- 
served in the New Testament are ascribed, and by whom many 
of them were undoubtedly written, is the central figure of the 
apostolic age, and tbe one who redeems it from the somewhat 
unintellectual character it would otherwise have had. Through 
him it principally was that Christianity passed from the condi- 
tion of a Jewish sect to that of a comprehensive religion. 
What Christ himself had been unable to do, he did. What the 
apostles of Christ shrunk from attempting, he accomplished. 
He himself was not unconscious of the magnitude of his labors. 
Hence there is noticeable now and then in his writings, though 
veiled under respectful phrases, a sort of intellectual contempt 
for the older apostles, who were not always prepared for the 
thorough-going measures which appeared to him so obviously 
expedient. He is extremely anxious not to be thought one whit 
inferior to them by reason of his comparatively late appoint- 
ment to the apostleship. He carefully rebuts the suspicion that 
he acted in subordination to them, or even in conjunction with 
them, after his conversion. His course, he is anxious to let 
every one know, was taken in entire independence of the 
Church at Jerusalem. Moreover, he insists empbatically upon 
his personal qualifications. Was any one a Hebrew ? so was he. 
Had others received visions or revelations? so had he. Had 
others been persecuted? so had he. He is fond of dwelling 
upon his individual history in order to support his claims. 
Thus he tells us that in former times he persecuted the Church 
of God, and that he was more Jewish than the Jews, being 
even more zealous than they of the traditions of his fathers. It 
was therefore entirely by special revelation from God, and not 
by any human agency whatever, that he was consecrated to his 
present work. Indeed his revelations were so abundant that it 
needed a "thorn in the flesh" to prevent him from being too 



622 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

proud of them — a work, however, in which the thorn was not 
entirely successful. His sufferings for the sake of the gospel 
afforded him another and more legitimate cause of satisfac- 
tion. He says of these that he received thirty-nine stripes from 
the Jews on five occasions; that he was thrice beaten with 
rods ; once stoned ; thrice shipwrecked ; a day and night in the 
deep (in an open boat?); often in all sorts of perils, in watch- 
ings, cold and thirst, hunger and nakedness. Once too he 
escaped from arrest at Damascus, which does not seem a very 
serious calamity (2 Oor. xi. 22-28.— Gal. 1. 11-24). 

Now the object of all these autobiographical statements is 
evidently to place himself on a level with other apostles who 
might seem at first to be more highly privileged than he was. 
Not so, he contends ; if they are ministers of Christ, I am quite 
as much so; if they saw Christ before his death, I have seen 
him after it; if they have labored in his cause, I have labored 
more; if they have suffered for his sake, I have suffered more. 
Hence my authority is in every respect equal to theirs, and 
should there be a difference of opinion between us you must 
believe me, your pastor, rather than them. Nay, even if an 
angel from heaven should preach any other gospel than that 
which I have preached, you must, not believe him; much more 
then must you disbelieve an apostle. Besides, appearances are 
deceptive, and as Satan may appear in the character of an angel 
of light, so the ministers of Satan may, and do appear in the 
character of apostles of Christ (2 Cor. xi. 13-15.— Gal. i. 8). There 
was therefore a section of the Church — probably the Judaic 
section, under the guidance of one of the original apostles — 
with whom Paul was at issue, and whom he considered it 
incumbent upon him to oppose by every argument in his 
power. These are they whom he refers to as ''troubling" the 
Gaiatians, and perverting the Gospel of Christ (Gal. i. 7). 

Such was the view taken by Paul of his function in the ris- 
ing sect. Whatever may have been its logical justification, it 
was fully justified by facts. In power of reasoning, in grasp of 
principles, in comprehensiveness of view, he was not only '* not 
a whit behind the chief est apostles," but far before them. His 
letters are by far the most remarkable of the writings which 
the New Testament contains. They evince a mind almost over- 



PAUL'S EPISTLES. 623 

burdened by the mass of feelings struggling for expression. 
He is profoundly penetrated with the new truth he has discov- 
ered, or rather which Christ has discovered to him, and he 
seems to have scarcely time to consider how he may best 
express it. His mind, though wealthy in ideas and fertile in 
applying them to practice, is not always clear. It seems rather 
to struggle with its thoughts than to command them. Hence a 
certain confusedness in style, a crowding together of notions in 
a single sentence, and a want of logical arrangement in his pre- 
sentation of a subject, which render his epistles not altogether 
easy reading. It may have been those characteristics which 
caused another apostle (or one who wrote in that apostle's 
name) to say that there were some things in the writings pf his 
beloved brother Paul that were " hard to be understood" (2 Pet. 
iii. 16). 

When, however, the uncouth style is surmounted, the thought 
will be found well worthy of consideration. Of all the writers 
in the New Testament Paul is the one who presents the largest 
materials for intellectual reflection. Whether or not we agree 
in his views, we can scarcely refuse to consider his arguments. 
And herein he is peculiar among his associates. He is the only 
one of the canonical writers who has any notion of presenting 
arguments for consideration at all. While others dogmatize, 
he reasons. He may reason badly, but he has at least the 
merit of being able to enter in some degree into the views of 
his opponents, and of attempting to reply to them on rational 
grounds. 

Another striking feature of the mind of Paul is its robust- 
ness. Brought up a Pharisee, a sect devoted to extending the 
regulations of the law to the utmost minutiae, he nevertheless 
rose completely above the domination of trifles. Even matters 
v^hich in most religions are regarded as of capital importance, 
he treated as of little moment in themselves. Ceremonies, 
observances, outward forms of every kind he held in slight 
esteem in comparison with moral conduct. Not the mere 
knowledge of the Jewish law or the power of teaching it to 
others, is of any avail, but the observance of its ethical precepts 
(Rom. ii. 17-23). Uncircumcision is just as good as circumcision, 
provided the uncircumcised man keep the law. The true Jew 



624 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

is not he who is a Jew outwardly, nor true circumcision that 
performed upon the flesh. He is the true Jew who is one 
inwardly, and that is true circumcision which is in the heart 
(Kom. ii. 24-29). Indeed, in the renovated condition which is 
effected by Christianity, there is neither Greek nor Jew ; neither 
circumcision nor uncircumcision ; neither barbarian, Scythian, 
slave, nor freeman; but Christ is everything and in everything 
(Col. iii. 11.— Gal. iii. 28). In the same rationalistic spirit he lays 
down the admirable rule that external forms are valuable only 
to those who think them so. One man believes he may eat 
everything ; another eats only herbs. One man esteems all days 
alike ; another esteems one day above another. The freethinker 
must^not despise the one who holds himself bound by such 
things, nor must this latter condemn the freethinker. The 
really important matter is that every one should have a com- 
plete conviction of his own. In that case, whatever condtict he 
pursues in these trivialities, being dictated by his conscience, is 
religious conduct. On the one side, the more scrupulous must 
not pass judgment on the less scrupulous, that being the office 
of Christ; but, on the other side, the less scrupulous must 
endeavor not to give offense to the more scrupulous. In illustra- 
tion of this doctrine Paul confesses that to him personally the 
Jewish distinction between clean and unclean meat is totally 
unmeaning; yet if his brother were grieved by his eating the 
so-called unclean meats, he would rather give up the practice 
than destroy by his meat ones for whom Christ had died. All 
things, indeed, are pure in themselves, yet it is not well to eat 
flesh or drink wine if another is scandalized thereby. We who 
are strong-minded, and have surmounted theso childish scruples 
of our forefathers, must bear the infirmities of the weak rather 
than please ourselves (Kom. xiv. xv. 1). 

Certainly when the things are in themselves totally indiffer- 
ent, the principle of concession to the superstitions of minds 
governed by traditional beliefs may sometimes be advantage- 
ously adopted. But the importance of protesting against the 
bondage exercised by such beliefs over human life is also not 
to be underrated, and Paul seems scarcely to give it sufficient 
weight in the preceding argument. No doubt on the ground of 
policy, and in reference to the desirability of keeping the mem- 



PAUL'S DOCTRINE OF THE SEXES. 625 

bers of the nascent sect from internal quarrels, Paul was right; 
but a principle which in certain cases may be expedient for a 
given end, is not to be set up as a universal rule of ethics. Nor 
is it obvious that Paul intended to do this. He himself, if 
questioned, would probably have admitted that there were 
limits beyond which concession ought not to go, those limits 
being fixed by the consideration that such concession, if pushed 
too far, must end in the perpetual subordination of the whole 
of the Christian body to the wealinesses of its least enlightened 
members. The morality expressed in the lines 

"Leave thou thy sister when she prays 
Her early heaven, her happy views, 
Nor thou with shadowed hint confuse 
A life that leads melodious days," 

is good morality under certain conditions, but there is too great 
a tendency on the part of those who retain their *' early 
heaven " to press this conduct upon those whose "faith has 
centre everywhere, nor cares to fix itself to form." It ought 
not to be forgotten that but for the Christian disregard of 
forms, persevered in in despite of the scandal to the Jews, 
Christianity must alwaj's have remained a branch of Judaism. 

A peculiar merit to be set to Paul's account is, that he is the 
only one of all the writers in the New Testament who treats 
the supremely important question of the relations of the sexes, 
a subject so remarkably overlooked by Christ himself. AVhether 
the guidance he affords his converts on this head is good guid- 
ance or not, he does at least attempt to guide them. Let us 
notice first what he considers abnormal relations, and then pro- 
ceed to what he lays down as a normal one. In the first Epis- 
tle to the Corinthians he is loud in his denunciations of a man 
who cohabited with his father's wife, the father being, I pre- 
sume, deceased. AVhether the son had married his stepmother, 
or merely lived with her, is not altogether clear, since,'in either 
case, the apostle might brand their connection vv^ith the title of 
fornication. However, he condemns it uttterly and without ref- 
erence to any accompanying circumstances, desiring the Corin- 
thian community to deliver up the mau to Satan for the dc- 



626 HOLY BOOKS, OR BIBLES. 

striiction of the flesh, in the name and with the power of their 
Lord Jesus, in order that his spirit might be saved at the day 
of judgment (1 Cor. v). Here then we have an early example of 
excommunication, accompanied by the formula to be used in 
performing the solemnity. 

That the severe reproof bestowed by Paul upon the Corin- 
'thians for permitting such conduct greatly affected them, we 
gather from the tenderer language employed in the subsequent 
epistle, where he admits having at one moment repented that 
he had caused them so much sorrow, though he soon saw that 
it had been for their good (2 Cor. vii. 8-13). It is gratifying,* 
also, to find that his tone towards the unfortuate individual who 
had been excommunicated at his desire is greatly softened, and 
that he desires the Corinthians to forgive him, and receive him 
back into their body, lest he should be swallowed up with too 
much sorrow (2 Cor. ii. 6, 7). It would haive been interesting 
had he informed us why he considered cohabitation with a step- 
mother so terrible a crime, but such a recurrence to first prin- 
ciples was not to be expected. He, no doubt, acted on a purely 
instinctive sentiment of repugnance to such an arrangement. 

A second kind of relation between the sexes which the apos- 
tle condemns is that of prostitution. Here he has not left us 
equally in the dark as to the grounds upon which his condem- 
nation is founded. Not only does he prohibit prostitution to 
the Christians, but he tells them exactly why they ought not to 
indulge in it; and his argument upon this subject is sufficiently 
curious to merit a moment's examination. In the first place, 
then, he tells his disciples that neither fornicators, nor adulter- 
ers, nor Sodomites, nor practicers of various other vices not of a 
sexual nature, will inherit the kingom of God (1 Cor. vi. 9, 10; 
Eph, V. 5). Fornication should not even be named among the 
Christians (Eph. v. 3). They must mortify their members upon 
earth, for impure connections and sexual license bring down the 
wrath of God (Col. iii. 5, 6). They must exclude from their society 
any one who is guilty of such irregularities (1 Cor. v. 9-11). 
"The body is not for prostitution, but for the Lord, and the 
Lord for the body." The bodies of Christians are the members 
of Christ: "Shall I then take the members of Christ, and make 
them the members of a prostitute ? God forbid. What! do you 



PAUL'S DOCTEINE OF THE SEXES. 627 

not know that he who is joined to a prostitute is one body? for 
the two [he says] sliall be one flesh " (1 Cor. yi. 13-16). It was 
surely a very original notion of Paul's to extend to the casual 
connections formed by the temporary passion the solemn sanc- 
tion besto\Yed upon the permanent union of man and wife. It 
is said in Genesis that a man and his wife are to be one flesh, 
and this is obviously an emphatic mode of expressing the close- 
ness and binding character of the alliance into which they enter. 
But what may appropriately be said of married persons cannot 
of necessity be said of persons linked together only by the most 
fleeting and mercenary kind of ties. The very evil of prostitu- 
tion is, that the prostitute and her companion are not one flesh 
in the allegorical sense in which husband and wife are so; and 
to condemn it on account of the presence of the very circum- 
stance which is conspicuously absent, is to cut the ground from 
under our feet. But let us hear the apostle further. *' But he 
that is joined to the Lord is one spirit. Elee prostitution. 
Every sin that a man commits is outside of the body [what 
can this mean ?], but the fornicator sins against his own body. 
What! do you not know that your body is the temple of the 
Holy Spirit in you? which you have of God, and you are not 
your own " (1 Cor. vi. 17-19). Now in this singular argument it 
is noticeable that the ground taken up is entirely theological. 
Destroy the theological foundation, and the ethical superstruc- 
ture is involved in its ruin. Thus, if we do not believe that our 
bodies are the members of Christ, nor the temples of the Holy 
Spirit, Paul has no moral reason to give us against the most 
unlimited indulgence in prostitution. While, even if we admit 
his premises, it is not very easy to see how his conclusion fol- 
lows. For why should we not make the members of Christ 
those of a prostitute, unless it be previously shown that it 
would in any case be wrong to do so with our own members? 
It would not (according to Paul himself) be wrong to make the 
members of Christ members of a wife ; why, then, should it be 
wrong to make them members of any other woman whatever? 
Clearly this question could not be answered without an attempt 
to prove, on independent grounds, the evil of promiscuous indul- 
gence of the sexual passion. But no such attempt is made by 
Paul. He has therefore failed completeli^ to make out a case 



628 HOLY BOOKS. OB BIBLES. 

against even the most unbridled license. Kot that his conclu- 
sion Deed therefore be reje««ted. On the contrary, the danger of 
his arguments is not that his view of morals is fundamentally- 
erroneous, but that he rests an important precept upon a dan- 
gerously narrow basis. 

Pass we now to that which he considers as the normal rela- 
tion between the sexes. The subject may be divided into three 
heads: that of the formation of such relations, that of their 
character when formed, and that of their disruption. Upon all 
of these the apostle has advice to give. 

In the first place it appears that the Corinthians had applied 
to him for a solution of some question that had been raised 
among them as to the propriety of entering at all into the mat- 
rimonial state. In answer to their inquiries he begins by 
informing them that it is good for a mt^n not to touch a 
woman. He would prefer it if every one were like himself 
unmarried. To unmarried people and widows he says that they 
had better remain as they are. Concerning virgins of either sex 
he delivers his private opinion that their condition is a good 
one for the present necessity. A married man indeed should 
not endeavor to get rid of his wife; but neither should an 
unmarried man endeavor to obtain a wife. The time is so short 
till the final judgment of the world that it makes little differ- 
ence; before long both married and unmarried will be in the 
same position. Meantime, however, celibacy is the preferable 
state; and that because celibates care for the things of the 
Lord, how they may please the Lord ; but married people care 
for one another, and study to please one another (1 Cor. vii. 1-34). 
Why Paul should suppose that married people, even while 
studying one another's happiness, might not also endeavor to 
please the Lord, it is hard to understand. He seems in this pas- 
sage to lend his sanction to the very dangerous doctrine that a 
due discharge of the ordinary duties of life is incompatible with 
attention to the service of God. As if the highest type of 
Christian life was not precisely that in which both were com- 
bined in such a manner that neither should be sacrificed to the 
other. But, apart from this fundamental objection to his theory 
it is liable to the remark that the assumptions on which it 
rests are untrue. Unmarried persons, unless the whole litera- 



PAUL'S DOCTRINE OF THE SEXES. 629 

ture of fiction, dramatic and novelistic, utterly belies them, care 
at least as much to become married as married persons care to 
promote one another's comfort. Indeed, it would be no less 
true to nature to say, that the unmarried in general take more 
pains to please some persons of the opposite sex than husbands 
take to please their wives, or wives their husbands. Not to 
dwell upon the fact that courtship involves a greater effort, 
mental and physical, than the mere continuance of love assured 
of being returned, there is the obvious consideration that the 
mere outward circumstances of the unmarried are far less 
favorable than those of the married to the enjoyment of their 
mutual society without considerable sacrifice of time. Hence 
the estimate made by Paul of the relative advantages of the 
two states is untrue to facts, except in the rare cases of those 
who have firmly resolved upon a life of celibacy, and who, in 
addition to this, have so perfect a control over their passions, 
or so little passion at all, as to be untroubled by sexual imag- 
inations. 

That these objections are well founded might be proved by 
reference to a picture (drawn either by Paul himself or by some 
one who assumed his name) of the conduct of young widows. 
Having to consider the question what widows may properly be 
supported by the charity of the Church, this writer refuses to 
admit any of them to the number of pensioners until they are 
sixty years old, apparently on the ground that they cannot be 
trusted to give up flirting altogether before they have reached 
that age. Young widows are to be rejected, for when they have 
begun to wax wanton against Christ, they wish to marry; a 
. damnable tendency, but one which it is so hopeless to get rid 
of, that the best thing they can do is to marry, to have children, 
and manage their households. Otherwise they will gad about 
gossiping and tale-bearing from house to house; not only idle, 
but mischievous (1 Tim. v. 9-15). So that the ideal concejition of 
unmarried persons caring only to please the Lord had at least 
no application to Christian widows. 

While recommending celibacy, Paul is careful not to encour- 
age breach of promise of marriage. If a man thinks he is 
behaving unhandsomely towards his betrothed, who is passing 
the flower of her age, he may marry her: he is not doing 



632 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

own bodies. They must not therefore defraud one another of 
conjugal rights, unless for a short time with a view to fasting 
and prayer, and then only with mutual consent (1 Cor. vii. 3-5). 
Paul therefore would have given no sanction to that very ques- 
tionable form of asceticism in which' husbands deserted their 
wives, or wives their husbands, to pursue their own salvation, 
regardless of the happiness of their unfortunate consorts. All 
such persons he would have bidden to return to the more indis- 
putable duties of the marriage-bed. 

Such a doctrine, however, to make it properly applicable to 
practice, would require to be supplemented by a doctrine of 
divorce; otherwise there is no provision for the case of an 
invincible repugnance arising in one of the parties towards the 
other, or in both towards each other. And this brings me to 
the third heald of the apostle's teaching; his views on the dis- 
ruption of the marriage-tie. Here he has little to say except 
that the wife is not to quit her husband, or that, if she do, she 
must remain unmarried or be reconciled to her husband; and 
that the husband is not to put away his wife. In cases where 
one is a Christian and the other not, they are not absolutely 
under bondage: they may separate, though it does not appear 
that they may marry again. But the apostle strongly advises 
them to keep together, in the hope that the believing member 
of the couple may save the other (1 Cor. vii. 10-16). It is plain 
from this summary that the apostle, no more than his Master, 
faces the real difficulties of the question of divorce. For the 
case of unhappy unions, except in the single instance of the 
one party being a Christian, he has no provision whatever. It 
is remarkable, however, that he several times intimates in the 
course of this chapter that he is not speaking with the author- 
ity of Christ, but simply expressing his personal opinions; a 
proviso which looks as if he himself were unwilling to invest 
these views with full force of the sanction they would otherwise 
have derived from his apostolical commission. 

There is another subject on which the opinions expressed by 
Paul are open to considerable comment — the resurrection of the 
dead. In a chapter which for its beauty and its eloquence is 
unparalleled in the New Testament, he discusses the Christian 
prospect of another life. Had he confined himself to rhetoric 



PAUL ON THE RESURRECTION. 633 

I should have been contented simply to admire, but he has 
unfortunately mingled argument with poetic vision in a very 
unsatisfactory manner. In tlio first i^lace, he attempts to deduce 
the resurrection of the dead from the resurrection of Christ. 
If, he contends, there be no resurrection of the dead, then 
Christ is not risen; our preaching is vain, and so also is your 
faith (1 Cor. xv. 12-20). He fails to perceive that the resurrec- 
tion of Christ — a man whose whole life, according to him, was 
full of prodigies — could be no guarantee for the resurrection of 
any other individual whatever. Christ had already been 
restored to life in a manner in which no other person had ever 
been restored. His body had been reanimated after two days, 
before it had had time to suffer decomposition, and that without 
the intervention of any other person, competent like Christ 
himself, to perform a miracle. How then could so unprecedented 
an occurrence warrant the expectation of the reanimation of 
those who had been long dead, and whose bodies had suffered 
decomposition ? Plainly there is here a palpable non sequitur. 
Christ might be raised without this fact involving a general 
resurrection; and a general resurrection might happen without 
Christ having been raised. Further on he makes a still more 
amazing blunder. Answering a supposed antagonist, who puts 
the natural question, "With what body are the dead raised?" 
he excliims, "Fool ! that which thou sowest is not quickened 
except it die;" (1 Cor. xv. 36.) implying that he conceived the 
change undergone by seed dropped into the ground to resemble 
the death of the human body. Now it is needless to point out 
that the organic processes constituting physical life do not 
- cease in the grain which (as he says) grows up into wheat or 
some other corn ; and that if they did cease, that " body that 
shall be," which he compares to the bodies of men in their ex- 
pected resurrection, never would appear at all. The grain, in 
short, would not grow. An adversary, had he been on the alert, 
might have retorted upon Paul (borrowing his own courteous 
phraseology): "Idiot! that which thou sowest is not quickened 
if it die." Such a retort would have been completely crushing. 
Another very fatal mistake of Paul's is the contention that if 
the dead do not rise, we have no reason to do anything but 
enjoy the passing hour. "Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow 



634 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

we die " (1 Cor. xv. 32). Nothing can be more dangerous than 
such language as this; for it a man bases his moral system 
upon the belief in a future life, the destruction of that belief 
will involve the destruction of his moral system. It is founding 
the more certain upon the less so; universal conceptions upon 
special ones ; that which is essential to human existence upon 
the doctrines of a particular creed held only by a portion of the 
human race. The argument is a favorite one with theologians, 
because it enlists in favor of the doctrine of a future state all 
the strong attachment by which we cling to principles of morals. 
None the less is it illegitimate, and it ought to be sternly 
rejected. 

Next in beauty to this eloquent description of the future 
state of man may be reckoned the extremely fine chapter on 
brotherly love in the same epistle. Brotherly love, according 
to Paul, never fails, though intellectual gifts, such as prophe- 
cies, tongues, and knowledge, will pass away. Hope, faith, and 
brotherly love are joined together by him as a trinity of virtues 
which "now abide;" but the greatest of these is brotherly 
love (1 Cor. xiii). 

Scattered about in the writings of this apostle there are also 
some admirable maxims of conduct, extremely similar in tone 
to those of Jesus. Thus, he tells his fellow-Christians to be 
kindly affectioned one to another; to bless those that perse- 
cute them — to bless and not to curse; to return no man evil 
for evil; give food to a hungry enemy and drink to a thirsty 
one; and generally, not to be overcome by evil, but to over- 
come evil by good (Eom. xii. 10-21.— 1 Thess. v. 15). It were 
much to be wished that he himself had remembered these benefi- 
cent rules of conduct in the case of Alexander the coppersmith, 
who he says did him "much evil," and concerning whom he 
utters the significant prayer that the Lord may reward him 
according to his works (2 Tim. iv. 14). 

Subdivision 3.— The Apocahjpse. 

The author of .the Apocalypse, or Book of Revelation, who 
professes to have seen the vision he describes at Patmos, gives 
himself the name of John ; a circumstance which led in former 



MORAL PRECEPTS OF PAUL. 635 

times to the belief that the work was the composition of John 
the disciple of Jesus. It is a rather late production, having 
been written subsequently to the establishment by Paul of 
Gentile Christian communities in various parts of Asia. It also 
presupposes the existence of a sect of heretics termed Nicolait- 
anes, who had arisen in some places, and was therefore prob- 
ably not written until some time after the foundation of these 
churches by the great apostle. 

The author endeavors to add lustre to his work by proclaim- 
ing at its outset that it was committed to writing under the 
direct inspiration of Jesus Christ himself, who dictated it to 
him, or rather showed it to him, when he was "in the Spirit 
on the Lord's day." Notwithstanding this exalted authorship, it 
is a production of very inferior merits indeed. It is conceived 
in that style of overloaded allegory of which the art consists in 
concealing the thought of the writer under images decipherable 
only by an initiated few. The Book of Daniel is an example of 
the same kind of thing. A false interest is excited by this 
style from the mere difficulty of comprehending the meaning. 
How. widely it differs from that mode of allegory which possesses 
a real literary justification, may be shown by comparing the 
Apocalypse with the "Pilgrim's Progress." In Bunyan, the 
thought is revealed under clear and transparent images; in 
John, it is concealed under obscure and turbid ones. Hence 
there have be'en endless interpretations of the Apocalypse ; 
there has been only one of the "Pilgrim's Progress." That 
characteristic which Holy Writ has been shown to possess of 
calling forth a multitude of comments and speculations upon 
its meaning belongs in a preeminent degree to the Eevelation 
of John. 

After writing by the instructions of Christ a letter to each of 
the Seven Churches, the author proceeds to describe his vision. 
There was a throne in heaven, upon which God himself was 
seated. He had the singular appearance of a jasper and a sar- 
dine stone. Beasts, elders, angels, saints, and a promiscuous 
company besides were around the throne, engaged in perform- 
ing the ceremonies of the celestial court. Various works were 
executed according to orders by the attendant angels. A beast 
then arises out of the sea, and is worshiped by those whose 



636 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

names are not in Christ's book. "Babylon the Great," under 
the form of a harlot, is judged and put an end to. An angel 
comes down from heaven and biads "that old serpent, which is 
the Devil and Satan," for a thousand years. During this mil- 
lennium Christ reigns on earth, and all who have been martyrs 
for his sake, or have not worshiped the beast, rise from the 
dead to reign with him. After the thousand years are over 
Satan is unfortunately released from prison, and does a great 
deal of mischief, but is ultimately recaptured again and cast 
into a lake of fire and brimstone. A second resurrection, for 
the unprivileged multitude, now takes place. All the dead stand 
before God, and' are judged by reference to the records which 
have been carefully kept in heaven in books provided for the 
purpose. All who are not in the book of life are thrown into 
the lake of fire, to which death and hell are consigned also. 
The inspired seer is now shown a new heaven, a new earth, and 
a new Jerusalem which comes down from heaven. For a 
moment he rises from the extremely commonplace level upon 
which he usually moves to an eloquent picture of that happier 
world in which "God shall wipe away all tears from" the eyes 
of men; when "there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, 
nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain." The book 
concludes with a curse upon any one who shall in any manner 
tamper with it, either by way of addition or erasure, and with 
a promise from Jesus that he will come quickly. 

Subdivision 4. — The God of Christendom, 

Although the God whom Jesus thought himself commissioned 
to represent, and in whom his disciples believed, is the histor- 
ical continuation of the Jehovah of Hebrew Scripture, yet his 
character is in rnany important aspects widely different. No 
longer the arbitrary and irascible personage who continually 
interfered with the current of human affairs, rewarding here, 
punishing there; now overthrowing a monarch, now destroying 
a nation ; he exercises a calmer and more equitable sway over 
the destinies of the world. As the servile occupants of the 
bench in former days too often combined the functions of pros- 
ecutors with those of judges, so Jehovah in the ancient times 



THE GOD OF CHRISTENDOM. 637 

of Israel had sometimes tlirowQ off the judicial dignity to act 
■with all the animus of a party to the cause. This was natural 
perhaps where the subject-matter of the inquiry was the worship 
and honor to be paid to himself. It was natural that he should 
take a strong personal interest in such cases; but as all oppo- 
sition (among the Jews at least) had passed away, and he re- 
mained in exclusive possession of the throne, he could afford to 
treat the charges Avith which he had now to deal — mere infrac- 
tions of morality, for example — in a much more impartial 
spirit. 

In addition to this cause of transformation, the natural 
growth of religious feeling had tended to replace the older deity 
by a modified conception, and Jesus, falling in in this respect 
with the course of thought already in progress, contributed to 
effect a still further modification in the same direction. Hence, 
although there is nowhere an absolute break between the old 
and the new conceptions, the God of the New Testament is 
practically a very different person from the G^d of the Old. 
We cannot conceive him doing the same things. The worst 
action, in the way of interference in mundane matters, of which 
the God of the New Testament is guilty, is, perhaps, the sudden 
slaughter of Ananias and Sappliira. But what is this to such 
enormities as the deluge, the destruction of Sodom and Gomor- 
rah, or the commission of bears to devour little children who 
had ridiculed the baldness of a prophet? Horrors like these, 
so consistent with the general mode of proceedure of the ancient 
Jehovah, are wholly incompatible with the characteristics so 
often ascribed to the more recent God. According to the theo- 
ries of the New Testament, the crime committed by the Jews 
in executing Jesus was at least as great as the crimes for wliich 
the antediluvians and the Sodomites had been so ruthlessly 
exterminated. Yet we cannot imagine Jesus as even wishing 
for the extermination of his contemporaries by water or by fire. 
The God whose love for mankind he had been teaching could 
not for a moment be thought of as consenting to such a course. 
While Elijah the Tishbite is represented as positively praying 
for the instant death of one hundred men who came to him 
with a message from his king, Jesus, on the contrary, is de- 
picted as actually healing the only one of his enemies who had 



638 HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

been in any way injured in effecting his arrest. Plainly when 
the conduct of the prophets is thus dissimilar, the deity whom 
they represent on earth is dissimilar also. 

Another very marked alteration to be observed in passing 
from the character of Jehovah to that of God, is the emanci- 
pation of the object of worship from the limits of race. Jeho- 
vah was altogether a Jew. He kept the Sabbath-day; he loved 
fasts and festivals ; he believed strongly in the virtue of circum- 
cision ; he was interested not so much in the general well-being 
of the human species, as in the success of the single people of 
whom he was the true leader in battle and the ultimate sover- 
eign at home. What happened to all the remainder of mankind 
was to him a matter of trivial moment, although it might suit 
him occasionally to use them as instruments either for the 
chastisement or the restoration to favor of his beloved Israel. 
But God in the New Testament has largely cast off the special 
features of his race, and although he sometimes betrays his 
Judaic origin, he is in the main cosmopolite in his sympathies 
and impartial in his behavior. Though by no means catholic 
in religion, but holding exclusively to a single faith, he receives 
all who embrace that faith, of whatever nation, within the 
range of his favor. This great and deeply important change, 
though begun by Jesus, was in the main the work of Paul. If 
it was Jesus who constructed the tabernacle, it was Paul who 
built the temple. 

While, however, there is an enormous improvement if we 
compare the administration of human affairs by Jehovah and 
by God, there is nevertheless a blot upon the character of God 
which suffices, if rigorously balanced against the failings of 
Jehovah, to outweigh them all. It is the eternity of the punish- 
ment which he inflicts in a future life. No amount of sophistry 
can ever justify the creation of beings whose lives are to termi- 
nate in endless suffering. But while the reality of condemnation 
to such endless suffering would be a far more gigantic crime 
than any of the merely terrestrial penalties inflicted by the 
Hebrew Jehovah, the belief in such endless suffering is quite 
consistent with a much higher general conception of the divin- 
ity than the one that coexisted with the belief in those terrestrial 
penalties. The explanation of this apparent paradox is to be 



THE GOD OP CHRISTENDOM. * 639 

found in the fact that the necessary injustice of eternal punish- 
ment is not verj^ easily perceived; that, in fact, it is not under- 
stood at all in the ruder stages of social evolution, and not by 
every individual even in so advanced a society as our own. 
Some degree of punishment for offenses is felt to be requisite; 
and it is not observed without considerable reflection that that 
punishment in order to be just must needs be finite ; must needs, 
if imposed by absolute power, aim at the ultimate reformation 
of the criminal, not at his ultimate misery. And it takes a far 
higher degree of mental cultivation to feel this than it takes to 
fe^ the injustice of the violent outbursts attributed in the Old 
Testament to Jehovah. Tradition and custom alone could have 
prevented Jesus and his disciples from feeling shocked at these; 
while it was intellectual capacity which was needed to enable 
them to reject eternal punishment as incompatible with justice. 
Add to these considerations the very important fact that the 
conduct conducing to salvation, and avoiding cendemnation in 
the future state, was supposed to be known to all men before- 
hand, being fixed by unalterable rules; while the conduct nec- 
essary to ensure the terrestrial rewards, and escape the terres- 
trial penalties of the Old Testament, was not known till the 
occasion arose; sometimes not till after it had arisen. Thus, 
Jesus lays down in his teaching both the rules to be observed 
by human beings if they would obtain the approbation of his 
Father, and the exact manner in which the violation of those 
rules will be visited upon them if they fail to repent and 
obtain forgiveness. But Jehovah only made his rules from 
time to time, and never announced beforehand what his punish- 
ments would be. Who, for instance, could tell what he would 
do to the Israelites for worshiping tUe golden calf ? who could 
say whether he would treat gathering sticks on the Sabbath, as 
to which there was as yet no law, as a capital crime ? still 
more, who could imagine that he would visit the action of a 
monarch in taking a census of Israel by a pestilence inflicted 
on the unoffending people ? Plainly it was a very rude notion 
of deity indeed which was satisfied to suppose an arbitrary in- 
terposition in all such cases. The God of the New Testament 
may be more cruel, but he is also more consistent. If I may 
venture on a homely comparison, I should say that the Jehovah 



640 *" HOLY BOOKS. OR BIBLES. 

of the Israelites is like a capricious Oriental despot, whose sub- 
jects' lives are in his hand, while the God of Christendom rather 
resembles a judge administering a Draconian code in which 
there should be no gradations between capital punishment 
and entire acquittal. The law^s may in fact demand more 
bloodshed than the t^^rant ; but their existence and administra- 
tion by fixed rules would undoubtedly imply that a people had 
reached a higher grade of civilization. Moreover, exactly as 
government conducted by laws is capable pf improvement by 
modification of the legislative enactments, while despotic govern- 
ment is essentially vicious, so the character of God admits, of 
easy adaptation to the needs of a more cultivated state, while 
that of Jehovah can by no possibility be rendered consistent 
with a high ideal of divinity. 

Such adaptation of the Christian God has actually taken place 
to a very large extent. The doctrine of Purgatory, leaving only the 
most incorrigible offenders to be consigned to hell, was already 
a considerable step in advance of the teaching of the New Tes- 
tament. It got rid of the fundamental weakness in the concep- 
tion of Jesus, wherein there was no proportion of punishment 
to offense ; every sin, small or great, was either absolutely for- 
given or punished to the uttermost extent. It effected the same 
beneficent change as Eomilly effected in the English law. 
Precisely as our former code punished even trifling crimes with 
death or not all, so the God of Jesus punished sin either eter- 
nally or not at all. Precisely as the excessive severity of Eng- 
lish law led to the entire acquittal of many criminals who 
should have received some degree of punishment, so the ex- 
cessive severity of God led to the belief and hope that many 
sinners would be entirely pardoned who should in justice have 
received some measure of correction. Thus, in both these cases, 
the undue harshness of the threatened penalty tended to defeat 
the very object in view. 

But the character of the God of Christendom admits of a 
much more thorough reformation than that effected by the 
Catholic Church. Tender spirits, offended, like Uncle Toby, at 
the notion that even the worst of beings should be damned to 
all eternity, have simply refused to accept the notion of endless 
torture. Thinkers, aiming at a system of abstract justice, have 



THE LATEST DEVELOPMENTS. 641 

sought to prove that it could not be. Theologians have con- 
trived all sorts of shifts to dispense with the necessity of believ- 
ing it. Modern feeling, whether on grounds of logic or of senti- 
ment, has gradually come to suppress it more and more as an 
inconvenient article in the nominal creed, to be, if not con- 
sciously rejected, at least instinctively thrust as much as possi- 
ble out of sight. There has resulted an idea of the Deity in 
which the harsher elements are swept away, and the gentler 
ones, such as his fatherhood, his care, and his love, are left 
behind. Such writers as Theodore Parker, Francis W. Newman, 
and Frances Power Cobb, have carried this ideal to the highest 
point of perfection of which it appears to be capable. Their 
God is still the God of Christendom, but refined, purified and 
exalted. The work which the Jewish prophets began, whijch 
Jesus carried on, at which all the nations of Christendom have 
labored, they have most worthily completed. Whetherthe ideal 
thus attained is destined to be final, whether it really represents 
the ultimate possibilities of religious thought that can remain 
as the corner-stone of a universal faith, are questions that can 
be answered only when we have undertaken the complete anal- 
ysis of those most general constituents of all theological sys- 
tems which the foregoing examination has disclosed. On that 
last analysis we are about to enter. 



"Ach, mein Kindchen, schon als Knabe, 
Als ich sass auf Mutters Schoss, 
Glaubte ich an Gott den Vater, . 
Der da waltet gut und gross. 

**Der die schone Erd' erschaffen, 
Und die schonen Menschen d'rauf, 
Der den Sonnen, Monden, Sternen, 
Vorgezeiclinet ihren Lauf. 

**Als ich groosser wurder, Kindchen, 
Noch vielmehr begriff ich schon, 
Und begriff, und ward veruiinftig, 
Und ich glaub' auch an den Sohn ; 

'*An den lieben Sohn, der liebend 
Uns die Liebe offenbart, 
Und zum Lohne, wie gebracchlich, 
Yon dem Volk gekreuzight ward. 

** Jetzo, da ich ausgewachsen, 
Viel gelesen, viel gereist, 
Schwillt mein Herz, und ganz von Herzen 
Glaub, ich an den heil'gen Geist," 

— Hbinb. 



THE 



RELIGIOUS SENTIMENT ITSELR 



CHAPTER VII. 

THE ULTIMATE ELEMENTS. 

We have now examined and classified the various phenomena 
manifested by the religious sentiment throughout the world. 
We have found these phenomena to have been in all ages of 
history, and to be now among ail races of men, fundamentally 
alike. Diverse as the several creeds existing on the face of the 
earth appear to a superficial observer, yet the rites, the prac- 
tices, the dogmas they contain, admit of being ranged under 
certain definite categories and deduced from certain invariable 
assumptions. The two leading ideas of consecration and of 
sanctity pervade them all, and while the mode of consecration, 
the objects consecrated, the things, places, men, or books 
regarded as sacred, differ in every quarter of the globe, the 
feelings of the religious man remain the same. 

Let us take a rapid survey, before proceeding further, of the 
ground we have already traversed. Wherever any religion exists 
at all, we have found consecrated actions: that is, actions 
devoted to the service of God. Such actions, it is assumed, 
have some kind of validity or force, either in bringing from the 
deities addressed by the worshipers some species of temporal 
blessing, or in ensuring happiness in a future state, or In im- 

643 



644 THE ULTIMATE ELEMENTS. 

proving his moral character in this. Secondly, we no sooner 
rise above the very rudest forms of religion, than we find places 
set apart for worship, and entirely abstracted from all profaner 
uses. Thirdly, we find that it is a universal practice to dedi- 
cate certain objects to the special use of the divine beings 
received in the country; such objects being various in their 
nature, but very frequently consisting of gifts to the accredited 
ministers of the God for whom they are intended. Fourthly, 
we find in all the greater religions— the Confucians possibly 
excepted — a number of persons who have devoted themselves 
to a mode of life supposed to be especially pleasing to God, and 
carrying with it in their minds the notion of superior sanctity. 
Lastly, we have in almost every form of fath a special class, 
generally of male persons only, who are set apart, by some dis- 
tinctive rite, to the performance of the consecrated actions 
required -by the community to be done on their behalf; these 
actions thus acquiring a double consecration, derived primarily 
from their own nature, and secondarily from the character of 
those by whom they are performed. 

Passing to the second of our main divisions, we found the 
conception of sanctity applied generally where that of conse- 
cration had been applied, the distinction being that while the 
latter was imparted by man, the former was the gift of God. 
Thus, in the first place, just as human beings consecrate some 
of tbeir actions to the service of God, so he, ,in his turn, sanc- 
tifies certain events to the enlightenment of mankind. It is the 
same in the second case, that of places; for here the deity 
sometimes points out a holy spot by some special mark of his 
presence, sometimes (and more commonly) condescends to sanc- 
tify those which man has devoted to his worship. And, thirdly, 
as men set apart some of their property for him, so he imparts 
to some of the objects in their possession a holy character, 
which endows them with peculiar powers, either over external 
nature, or over the mind and conscience of, those who see, 
touch, or otherwise use them. Fourthly, he endows the class 
who perform the ceremonies of religion with his peculiar grace ; 
a grace commonly evinced in their power to consecrate places, 
things, and men, to forgive sins, to convey the apostolic succes- 
sion, to administer sacraments, and so forth; but occasionally 



THE BELIGI0U8 SENTIMENT. 645 

manifested in the shape of supernatural endowments. And 
fifthly, as there are many of both sexes who give themselves to 
him, 60 there have been a few men to whom he maybe said to 
have given himself, having invested them with authority to 
teach infallible truth, and found religions called after their 
names. Sixthly, he has revealed himself in a way to which 
there is nothing corresponding on the human side, by means of 
books composed by authors whom he inspired with the words he 
desired them to write. 

Viewed in the gross, as we have viewed them now, these 
several manifestations of religious feeling cancel one another. 
That feeling has indeed expressed itself in the same general 
manner, but with differences in detail which render all its 
expressions equally unimportant in the eyes of science. For, to 
take the simplest instance, nothing can be said by a Christian, 
on behalf of the inspiration of his Scriptures, which might not 
be said by the Buddhist, the Confucian, or the Mussulman on 
behalf of the inspiration of theirs. If his appear to him more 
beautiful, more perfect, more sublime, so do theirs to them; 
and even if we concede his claims, the difference is one of 
degree, and not of kind. So it is in reference to miracles. 
Christianity can point to no miracles tending to establish its 
truth, which may not be matched by others tending to establish 
the truth of rival creeds. And if we find believers of every 
kind in every clime, attaching the most profound importance to 
the exact performance of religious rites in certain exact ways, 
while, nevertheless, those ways differ from age to age and from 
place to place, we cannot but conclude that every form of 
worship is equally good and equally indifferent; and that the 
faith of the Christian who drinks the blood of Christ on the 
banks of the Thames, stands on the same intellectual level 
with that of the Brahman who quaffs the juice of the Soma on 
the banks of the Ganges. 

But this line of argument seems to tend to nothing short of 
the absolute annihilation of religion. Under the touch of a 
comparative anatomy of creeds, all that was imposing and mag- 
nificent in the edifice of theology crumbles into dust. Systems 
of thought piled up with elaborate care, philosophies evolved 
by centuries of toilsome preparation, fall into shapeless ruins at 



646 THE ULTIMATE ELEMENTS. 

our feet. And all this by the simple process of putting them 
side by side. 

Can we, however, rest content in the assumption that so vast 
a superstructure as that of religion has no solid foundation in 
the mind of man ? And is it destined, like the theologies it has 
evolved in the course of its existence to disappear entirely 
from a world enlightened by scientific knowledge? 

Two questions must be carefully distinguished from one 
another in replying to the doubt thus suggested. The first is 
whether religion, although it may contain no objective truth, or 
no objective truth ascertainable by us, nevertheless possesses, 
from some circumstance in its own nature, or in the nature of 
the world we live in, a hold upon the human race, of which it 
cannot by any advance of knowledge be deprived. Is there, in 
short, if not au everlasting truth, yet an everlasting dream from 
which there is to be no awakening, and in which spectral 
shapes do duty for external realities? An affirmative reply 
would admit the. existence of religious sentiment to be a neces- 
sary result of the constitution of the human mind, but would 
not concede the inference that conclusions reached by means of 
that sentiment had any objective validity, or any intellectual 
worth beyond that which they derive from the imagination of 
those who believe them. The second question is whether there 
are in the fundamental composition of religious sentiment any 
elements not only necessary, but true; and if so, what those 
elements are, and what is the proof of their credibility, if proof 
there be. 

As a preliminary to answering either of these questions, it is 
needful to ascertain whether in the midst of the variety we 
have passed in review, there is any fundamental unity ; in other 
words, whether the varied forms of religion are all we can ever 
know of it, or whether underlying those forms there is a per- 
manent structure upon which they are superposed. For only 
when we know whether there is in all the creeds of the world 
a common element, can we proceed to inquire whether there is 
an element which is a necessary result of the constitution of 
our minds. If the phenomena evinced by the several religions 
to which we have referred in the previous book have no com- 
mon source in human nature; if, while they differ in every 



THE ONE NECESSARY ASSUMPTION. 647 

article of their theology, there is nothing beyond theology in 
which they agree; then religion is a mere superficial product of 
circumstances, having no more solid guarantee than the author- 
ity of the particular teachers of each special variety. There is 
in fact no religion ; there are only religions. There is no uni- 
versal Faith ; there is only particular Belief. 

These, then, are the queries to which our attention must be 
addressed : — 

1. Are there in the several religions of mankind any common 
elements? 

2. If so, are those common elements a necessary, and there- 
fore permanent, portion of our mental furniture ? 

3. If so, are those elements the correlatives of any actual 
truths, or not ? 

It may have been observed that all the phenomena we have 
examined in the previous Book imply one assumption, and can- 
not be understood without that assumption. All of them imply 
some kind of power or powers either behind, beyond, or exter- 
nal to the material world and the human beings who inhabit 
it, or at least involved in and manifested through that world 
and its inhabitants; some power whose nature is not clear to 
us, but whose effects are perceptible to our senses ; some power 
to which we ourselves and the material world are equally sub- 
ject. Sometimes indeed the power which religion thus assumes 
is broken up into several minor forces, and instead of a single 
deity we have several deities controlling the operations of 
nature. But, without dwelling now upon the fact that polythe- 
istic creeds often look above the lesser beings whom they com- 
monly put forward to a more mysterious and greater God, it 
may be observed that these minor forces are no more than 
forms of the one great force from which they are parted off by 
an imaginative subdivision. To place the ocean under one 
divinity, the winds under another, and the sun under a third, 
is practically a mental process of the same kind as to place 
them all under a single divinity; and the existence of some 
such cause of material phenomena being granted, it is a mere 
question of less or greater representative capacity whether we 
range them under numerous chiefs or comprehend them all 
under one. In either case we assume extra- mundane and super- 



648 THE ULTIMATE ELEMENTS. 

human power, and this is the essential assumption of all relig- 
ion/ The least assumption a religion can make is that of a 
single such power, and this (or more than this) it always must 
assume. For without this we should remain within the bound- 
aries of science ; we should examine and classify phenomena, 
but we could never pass beyond the phenomena themselves to 
their mystericiis origin or their hidden cause. 

But this is not the only assumption involved in every possi- 
ble religion. Every religion assumes also that there is in human 
nature something equally hyperphysical with the power which 
it worships, whether we call this something soul, or mind, or 
spirit. And between this human essence and the divine power 
there is held to be a singular con^espondence, their relationship 
finding its concrete expression in religious worship on*the one 
side and theological dogma on the other. All the practices and 
all the doctrines of every positive religion are but the modes in 
which men have sought to give body to their idea of this rela- 
tionship. 

We have then, strictly speaking, three fundamental postulates 
involved in the religious idea: — 

First, that of a hyperphysical power in the universe. 

Secondly, that of a hyperphysical entity in man. 

Thirdly, that of a relation between the two. 

The power assumed in the first postulate we may term the 
objective element in religion ; the entity assumed in the second 
postulate we may term the subjective element. In the following 
chapter we shall deal with the objective element in the relig- 
ious idea. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

THE OBJECTIVE ELEMENT. 

The general result whicli has thus been reached by the 
decomposition of religion into its ultimate constituents must 
now be rendered somewhat more specific by illustrative exam- 
ples tending to explain the character of the power the idea of 
whose existence forms the foundation of the religious sentiment, 
and such examples will tend to throw light upon "the question 
whether the admission of such a power is or is not a necessity 
of thought. For the proof of necessity is twofold • a posteriori 
and a priori. AVe may show by the first mode that certain 
assumptions are always made under certain conditions as a 
matter of fact; not that they are always made by every human 
being, but- that given the appropriate grade of culture, the 
beliefs in question arise. And we may show by the second that 
no effort of ours is able to separate certain ideas which have 
become associated in our minds; that the association persists 
under every strain we can put upon it, and that the resulting 
belief is therefore a necessary part of the constitution of the 
mind. Both modes of proof must be attempted here. 

Now, in the first place, it must be remarked tnat few, if any, 
of the nations of the world are wholly destitute of some relig- 
ious creed; and that those which have been supposed, rightly 
or wrongly, to be without it, have generally been savage tribes 
of the lowest grade of culture. So slender is the evidence of 
the presence of a people without some theological conception 
that it may be doubted whether the travelers who have 
reported such facts- have not been misled, either by inability to 
comprehend the language, or unfamiliarity with the order of 
thought, of those with whom they conversed. 

649 



650 THE OBJECTIVE ELEMENT. 

Sometimes the absence of religion seems to be predicated of a 
people which does not present an example of the kind of belief 
which the European observer has been accustomed to consider 
as religious. An instance of this is afforded in Angas' account of 
*' Savage Life in Australia." Of the Australians he states that 
" they appear to have no religious observances whatever. They 
acknowledge no Supreme Being, worship no idols, and believe 
only in the existence of a spirit whom they consider as the 
author of ill, and regard with superstitious dread." So that in 
the very act of denying a religion to these people he practically 
ascribes one to them. The3^, like Christians, appear to acknowl- 
edge a powerful spirit; and if they dwell upon the evil side of 
his works more than upon the good side, it is to be remem- 
bered that Christians too consider their deity "as the author of 
ill" by his action in cursing Adam with all his posterity; and 
that they too, regard him "with superstitious dread" as a' being 
who will send them to eternal torture if they fail to worship, 
to think, and to act as he enjoins them. Immediately after 
this, the author informs us that the Australians constantly carry 
flresticks at night, to repel malignant spirits, and that they 
place great faith in sorcerers who profess to "counteract the 
influence of the spirits" (S. L. A., vol. i. p. 88). So that their des- 
titution of "religious observances" is in like manner merely 
comparative. 

Very little, if any, belief in deity appears to exist in Kam- 
schatka. Steller, who has described the creed of its inhabitants, 
states that they believe in no providence, and hold that they 
have nothing to do with God, nor he with them (Kamschatka, 
p. 269). Whet^r this amounts to a denial of his existence I 
cannot say. They have, however, another element of religion, 
belief in a future state, as will afterwards appear. 

In primitive religions the abstract form of Deity is often 
filled up with the concrete figures of departed relatives. Indeed 
this is one of the modes in which that form acquires definite- 
ness, becoming comprehensible to the savage mind from this 
limitation of its generality. Thus in Fiji, although a supreme 
God and various other gods exist, the ancestors appear to be 
the most popular objects of worship. Deceased relations of the 
Fijians (according to ^eemann) take their place at once among 



' ANOESTOB WOESHIP. 651 

the family gods (Yiti, p. 389-391). Another author confirms this 
testimony. In Sandwich Island, in the Fijian group, he states 
that there are no idols. " The people worship the spirits of 
I heir ancestors " (N. Y., p. 394). In Savage Island again they 
pay their forefathers similar homage, and remark that they 
once had an image which they worshiped, but that they broke 
it in pieces during an epidemic which thdy ascribed to. its in- 
fluence (lb., p. 470). Among the Kafirs the spirits of the dead 
are believed to possess considerable power for good and evil; 
" they are elevated in fact to the rank of deities, and (except 
where the Great-Great is worshiped concurrently with them) 
they are the only objects of a Kafir's adoration " (K. N., p. 161). 

Similar evidence is given by Acosta in reference to Peru. In 
that country there existed a highly-developed and elaborated 
worship of the dead. The bodies of the Incas, or governors of 
Peru, were kept and worshiped. Eegular ministers were devo- 
ted to their service. Living Incas had images of themselves 
constructed, termed brothers, to which, both during the life- 
time of their original and after his death, as much honor was 
shown as to the Incas themselves. These images were carried 
in procession designed to obtain rain, and fair weather, and in 
time of war. They were also tiie objects of feasting and of sac- 
rifices (H. I., b. 5, ch. vi). But the adoration of the dead was 
not of such exclusive importance in Peru as in some countries 
of inferior culture, and the most prominent* positions in their 
system were occupied by the Sun and the soul of the world, 
Pachacamac, who was in fact their highest God (C. E. b. 2, ch. 
iii). 

These last examples introduce us to the more general concep- 
tion of deity which, in all religions but the very lowest, is found 
along with the belief in suj)eruatural beings of an inferior class, 
and in some of them overshadows tmd expels it. The Peruvi- 
ans, as just stated, assigned the first rank to him whom they 
conceived to have created and to animate the universe. The 
Fijians adored a supreme Being Degei or Tangaroa. Lastly, 
the *•' Great-Great," mentioned in the above quotation from 
Shooter, is a being who seems from the somewhat contradictory 
evidence of travelers to have been regarded as God by some of 
the Kafirs, but to have been wholly neglected by others. Thus, 



652 THE OBJECTIVE ELEMENT. 

in a passage quoted from a work of Captain Gardiner's by 
Canon Callaway, we find a conversation of the svriter's with a 
native, in which the latter denies all knowledge of deity what- 
ever, and expresses a vague notion that the things in the world 
may "come of themselves." Of another tribe the same writer 
asserts that "they acknowledged, indeed, a traditionary account 
of a Supreme Being, whom they called Ookoolukoolu (literally 
the Great-Great), but knew nothing further respecting him, 
than that he originally issued from the reeds, created men and 
cattle, and taught them the use of the assagai." Canon Calla- 
way is apparently of opinion that the word Unkulunkulu was 
not in use among the natives of South Africa in the sense of 
God until it was introduced by Captain Gardiner (E. S. A., vol. 
i. pp. 54:, 55). Considerable suspicion is thus thrown upon any 
statements in which this name is employed for the Creator. . If, 
however, we may accept a statement of Shooter's, "the K'afirs 
of Natal have preserved the tradition of a Being whom they 
call the Great-Great and the First Appearer or Exister." Ac- 
cording to this writer " he is represented as having made all 
things," but this tradition "is not universally known among 
the people." A chief who was asked about Unkulunkulu, the 
Great-Great, knew nothing about him, but one of his old men, 
when a child, "had been told by women stooping with age that 
there was a great being above." There is also " a tribe in Natal 
which still worship^ the Great-Great, though its recollection of 
him is very dim." This tribe calls upon Unkulunkulu in the 
act of sacrifice and in sickness (K. N., pp. 159, 160). While this 
testimony leaves it doubtful whether Unkulunkulu is worshiped 
at all, except by this single tribe, the traditions collected by 
Canon Callaway in the first volume of his valuable work point 
to the presence of a well-marked legend of creation in which 
that deity figures as the originator of human life. True, he is 
also spoken of as the first man, and in this fact we have the 
probable reconciliation of the view which treats him as the 
Supreme Being, with that which denies that his name was used 
with this signification. Unkulunkulu was the primaeval ancestor 
of mankind, but he was also the Creator. Ancestor-worship 
finds its culmination in him. But he has been much neglected 
in comparison with minor deities, and the word Unkulunkulu 



AFEICAN IDEAS OF GOD. 653 

has been applied to the ancestor of special tribes instead of to 
the ancestor of all mankind. 

The general result seems to be that some, though not all of 
the Zulus, have in their minds a more or less definite idea of a 
First Cause of existence, but that this First Cause is not wor- 
shiped and is but little spoken of. Thus, an old woman ques- 
tioned by an emissary of Canon Callaway's related this: — 

*' When we spoke of the origin of corn, asking, ' Whence 
came this ? * the old people said, * It came from the Creator who 
created all things. But we do not know him.' When we asked 
continually, ' Where is the Creator ? for our chiefs we see ? ' the 
old men denied, saying, 'And those chiefs too whom we see, 
they were created by the Creator.' And when we asked, 'Where 
is he ? for he is not visible at all. Where is he then ? ' we heard 
our fathers pointing towards heaven and saying, ' The Creator 
of all things is in heaven. And there is a nation of people 
there loo' " (E. S. A., vol. i. p. 52). 

But while Unkulunkulu is generally considered as the Crea- 
tor by the Zulus, it would appear that a neighboring people, 
called the Amakxosa, had heard of a "lord in heaven" even 
greater than him, whom they called Utikxo. According to the 
evidence of an old native the word Utikxo is not of foreign 
origin. Utikxo was api>ealed to when a man sneezed, and "as 
regards the use of Utikxo, we used to say it when it thundered, 
and we thus knew that there is a power which is in heaven; 
and at length we adopted the custom of saying, Utikxo is he 
who is above all. But it was not said that he was in a certain 
place in heaven ; it was said he filled the whole heaven. No 
distinction of v^lace was made" (lb., vol. i. p. 65). In the 
opinion of this authority, Utikxo had been in a manner super- 
seded by Unkulunkulu, who, because he was visible while the 
original power was invisible, was mistaken for the Creator and 
for God (lb., vol. i. p. 67). 

Testimony of a similar nature is given in regard to other 
regions of Africa. In Juda it is stated that the most intellect- 
ual of the great men had a confused idea of the existence and 
unity of a God (V. G., vol. ii. p. 160). Oldendorp states broadly 
that "all negro peoples believe that there is a God, whom they 
represent to themselves as very powerful and beneficent." He 



654 THE OBJECTITE ELEMENT. 

adds that among all the black nations he has known, there is 
none that has not this belief in God and that does not regard him 
as the author of the world. They call him by the same name 
as heaven, and it is even doubtful whether they do not take 
heaven for the supreme Being. "But perhaps, " he adds, '*they 
do not even think so definitely " (b. d. M., p. 318). So that the 
conception of the Highest God in the regions visited by this 
missionary is still vague and indefinite, like that we have found 
in Juda and in Natal. 

If now we turn to another quarter of the globe we find the 
peculiarly degraded and ignorant Greenlanders asserting that, 
although they knew nothing of God before the arrival of the 
missionaries, yet that those of them who had reflected on the 
subject had perceived the necessity of creative power, and had 
inferred that there must be a being far superior to the cleverest 
man. They had, in fact, used the argument from design, and 
thus prepared, they had gladly believed in the God preacked 
by the missionaries, for they found that it was he whom they 
had in their hearts desired to know (H. G., p. 240). A similar 
conviction of the existence of a supreme God prevailed 'in the 
new world when it was discovered by Europeans. Such a God 
was acknowledged in Mexico and Peru, as also in the less civil- 
ized regions of the North. Speaking of the American Indians, 
Charlevoix observes that nothing is more certain, yet nothing 
more obscure, than the idea which these savages have of a 
primaeval Being. All agree in regarding him as the first Spirit, 
the Euler and the Creator of the world; but when further 
pressed, they have nothing to offer but grotesque fancies, ill- 
considered fables, and undigested systems. Nearly all the Al- 
gonquin nations (he adds) call the first Spirit the Great Hare ; 
some term him Michabou, and others Atahocan. He was appar- 
ently supposed by some to have been a kind of quadruped, and 
to have created the earth from a grain of sand drawn from the 
bottom of the ocean, and men from the dead bodies of animals 
(N. F., vol. iii. p. 343). 

The great religions of the world have all of them (Buddhism 
alone excepted) acknowledged a God, whom they pictured to 
their minds in various ways according to the degree of their 
development and their powers of abstract thought. Dimly shad- 



THE GOD OF THE ANCIENT CREEDS. 655 

owed forth in the Confucian system under the title of Heaven, 
plainly acknowledged, yet mystically described by the Hindoos 
under many titles, whereof Brahma is one of the most usual, 
celebrated in plainer language by the classical heathens as 
Zeus or Jupiter, this great being appears in the three kindred 
creeds of Judaism, Islam, and Christianity, as Jehovah, as Allah,, 
and as God. In Buddhism, however, there is no article of faith 
corresponding to ihe belief in God. The Buddha is himself the 
most exalted being in the universe, and he is neither almighty 
nor eternal. The creation of matter as also of man appears to 
be unaccounted for. There is no single being who can be 
regarded as the ruler of all things, and the highest object of 
Buddhist worship. But it must not be supposed that Biiddhism 
has escaped the universal necessity of admitting spiritual 
powers superior to human beings. In the first place it retained 
the Indian deities, such as Brahma, Indra, and others, and 
though, subordinating all of them to Buddha, yet left them in 
possession of enormous capacities. In the second place, the 
Buddha in fact, though not in name, assumed the rank of a 
God. ■ Practically, he is far more than human. He himself 
determines the place, time, and manner of his incarnation. He 
delivers infallible doctrine. He becomes an object of adoration, 
receiving divine honors from his followers. And although the 
reigning Buddha (having entered Nirvana) is non-existent, and 
cannot aid his disciples, the future Buddha, or Boddhisattva, can 
do so, and he is addressed in prayer for the same purposes for 
which a Christian would invoke the intercession of his Savior. 
Thirdly, it is to be remarked that Buddhism, free from the sin- 
gle idea of God, is not free from the multitudinous idea of 
supernatural essences. Its theology, so to speak, is quite full 
of celestial beings of various ranks and functions, who swarm 
around the terrestrial believers and perform all kinds of won- 
ders. To these remarks it may be added that in Nepaul, one of 
the countries where Buddhism prevails, the non-theistjc form 
has been superseded by a theistic form, in which there are 
divine Buddhas corresponding to the human Buddhas ; the high- 
est of these, Adi-Buddha, being equivalent to the highest God 
of other creeds. And it is at least noteworthy, that in Ceylon, 
where the non-theistic form prevails in all its purity, the peo- 



656 THE OBJECTIVE ELEMENT. 

pie have a habit of invoking denaons to their aid, and of employ- 
ing the priests of these demons, in all the more important 
emergencies of their domestic lives. 

It must not be imagined, however, that I wish to undervalue 
the importance of the exception Avhich Buddhism presents to 
the general rule. Far from it. It ought, in my opinion, to be 
always borne in mind as a refutation of the statement that 
belief in a personal God is a necessary element of all religion. 
Europeans . are apt to carry with them throughout the world 
their clear-cut notions of deity as* a powerful being who created 
the world, put man into it, governs it in a certain manner, and 
assigns punishments and rewards to the souls of men in a 
future state. This belief appears to them so necessary and so 
natural that they expect to find it universally prevailing, and 
regard it as the indispensable foundation on which all religion 
must be built. Buddhism, however, the creed which, after 
Christianity, has probably exerted the greatest and most wide- 
spread influence on human affairs, knows no such article of 
faith; and our general ideas of the universal constituents of 
religion must needs be modified to embrace this fact. 

Some superhuman power must, however, be recognized in 
every religion, and it is the manner in which this superhuman 
power is described, the qualities ascribed to it, its unity or 
plurality, its relation towards man, and similar distinctions, 
which serve to differentiate one form of religion from another. 
The degree of defiuiteness is one of the most important features 
in this differentiation. Generally speaking, the deflniteness of 
this idea and the development of the religion vary inversely as 
one another. This law, however, is obscured by the continual 
tendency to put forward, to worship, and to speak about in 
ordinary cases, some inferior deity or deities, while there is 
lurking behind the vague idea of a higher entity who. is seldom 
mentioned, little or never worshiped, and who possibly has no 
name in the language. So that the gods or idols who are wor- 
shiped by the people must not be taken as embodying the best 
expression of their religious thoughts. Some instances of the 
occurrence of this pheno.menoji will serve as illustrations of the 
foregoing statement. 

On the coast of Guinea the people " have a faint idea of the 



AN UNSEEN GOOD GOD. 657 

true God, and ascribe to him the attributes Almighty and 
Omnipresent; they believe he created the universe, and there- 
fore vastly prefer him before their idol-gods; but yet they do 
not pray to him, or offer any sacrifices to him; for which they 
give the following reasons. God, they say, is too highly exalted 
above us and too great to condescend so much as to trouble 
himself, or think of mankind: wherefore he commits the gov- 
ernment of the world to their idols" (C. G., p. 348). The man- 
ner in which Utikxo, the highest God, is thrown into the shade 
by the more intelligible and human Unkulunkulu (as shown in 
a previous extract) is another example of the operation of this 
law. And it is especially noteworthy that the Amazulu have 
also a '* lord of heaven," with attributes corresponding to those 
of Utikxo, for whom they have no name. Anonymity, or if not 
absolute anonymity, the absence of any name commonly em- 
ployed in the popular language is, as we shall see, one of the 
most usual features of this most exalted Being. Other travelers 
give similar accounts of other regions of Africa. Winterbottom, 
who was especially acquainted with Sierra Leone and its neigh- 
borhood, saj's that *' the Africans all acknowledge a supreme 
Being, the creator of the universe; but they suppose him to be 
endowed with too much benevolence to do harm to mankind, 
and therefore think it unnecessary to c ffer him any homage " 
(S. L., vol. i. p. 222). Of Dahomey we learn from Winwood 
Reade (a writer not likely to be partial to theism, or to discover 
it where it does not exist), that the natives erect temples to 
snakes, but " have also the unknown, unseen God, whose name 
they seldom dare to mention " (S. A., p. 40). In another coun- 
try in Africa the same writer found that*the natives worshiped 
numerous spirits, and believed also in an evil Genius and a 
good Spirit. The former they were in the habit of propitiating 
by religious service; but the latter "they do not deem it neces- 
sary to pray to in a regular way, because he will not harm 
them. The word by which they express this supreme Being 
answers exactly to our word God. Like the Jehovah of the 
Hebrews, like that word in masonry which is only known to 
masters and never pronounced but in a whisper and in full 
lodge, this word they seldom dare to speak ; and they display 
uneasiness if it is uttered before them." The writer states that 



658 THE OBJECTIVE ELEMENT. 

he only heard it on two occasions; once when his men cried it 
out in a dangerous storm, and once when having asked a slave 
the name for God, the man "raised his eyes, and pointing to 
heaven, said in a soft voice Njambi" (lb., p. 250). Again, in a 
lecture on the Ashantees, Mr. Keade informed his hearers that 
"the Oji people," although believing in a supreme Being, do 
not worship him : while they do worship *' a number of inferior 
gods or demons," to whom they believe the superior God, 
offended with mankind, has left the management of terrestrial 
affairs. 

Strange to say, the peculiarity thus observed in the old 
world is precisely repeated in the new. Of the Mexicans it is 
stated that " they never offered sacrifices to " Tonacatecotle 
who was "God, Lord, Creator, Governor of the Universe," and 
whom "they painted alone with a crown, as lord of all." As 
their explanation of this conduct " they said that he did not 
regard them. All the others to whom they sacrificed were men 
once on a time, or demons" (A. M., vol. vi. p. 107, plate 1). 
Concerning the Peruvians, Acosta tells us that they give their 
deity a name of great excellence, Pachacamac, or Pachayachacic 
(creator of heaven and earth), and Usapu (admirable). He 
remarks, however, with much surprise, that they had no proper 
(or perhaps general) name in their language for God. There 
was nothing in the language of Cuzco or Mexico answering to 
" Deus," and the Spaniards used their own word "Dios." 
Whence he concludes, somewhat hastily, that they had but a 
slight and superficial knowledge of God (H. I., b. 5, ch. iii). 

In reference to Peru, however, we have still more trustwor- 
thy evidence from a member of the governing family, or Incas. 
From his statements it appears that the name applied to the 
Highest was pronounced only on rare occasions, and then with 
extremest reverence. This name' was Pachacamac, a word sig- 
nifying "he who animates the whole world," or the Universal 
Soul, as it would be termed in Indian philosophy. Like other 
creeds that of Peru had its secondary deity, the Sun, in whose 
honor sacrifices were offered and festivals held, while no tem- 
ples were erected, and no sacrifices offered to Pachacamac, 
although the Peruvians adored him in their hearts and looked 
upon him as the unknown God (C. E., b. 2, ch. iii). 



THE SUPKEME GOD OF THE SABAENS. 659 

Ancient religion presents similar facts. In his exhaustive work 
on Sabaeism, Chwolsohn observes that the fundamental idea of 
that form of faith was not, as is often supposed, astrolatry. To 
Shahrastani (the Arabian scholar), and many others who fol- 
lowed him, Sabaeism expressed the idea "that God is too sub- 
lime and too great to occupy himself with the immediate man- 
agement of this world; that he has therefore transferred the 
government thereof to the gods, and retained only the most 
important affairs for himself; that further, man is too weak to 
be able to apply immediately to the Highest; that he must 
therefore address his prayers and sacrifices to the intermediate 
divinities, to whom the management of the world has been in- 
trusted by the Highest." Further on, the author asks himself 
whether this conception was peculiar to the Harranian Sabaeans, 
and replies, " Certainly not. This fundamental idea is tolerably 
old, and in later times found admission to some extent even 
among the strictly monotheistic Jews. ... In the heathen 
world this view was universally shared by the cultivated classes, 
at least in the first centuries of the Christian era " (Ssabismus, 
vol. i. p. 725). 

Indian theology teems with the conception of a sublime but 
unknowable deity far superior to the deities of popular adora- 
tion, who has no name and whose greatness cannot be ade- 
quately expressed in human language. Indian philosophy loses 
itself in a sea of mystic terms when it endeavors to speak of 
this all-pervading and preeminent Being. Take, for example, 
the following from the Chhandogya Upanishad, one of the 
treatises appended to the Sama Veda. A father is instructing 
his son: — 

" ' Dissolve this salt in water, and appear before me to-mor- 
row morning.' He did so. Unto him said (the father), 'My 
child, find out the salt that you put in that water last night.' 
The salt, having been dissolved, could not be made out. (Unto 
Swetaketu said his father), ' Child, do you taste a little from the 
top of that water.' (The child did so. After a while the father 
inquired), 'How tastes it?' 'It is saltish' (said Swetaketu)." 
The same result followed with water taken from the middle and 
the bottom. " ' If so (throwing it away), wash your mouth and 
grieve not.' Yerily he did so (and said to his father), 'The salt 



660 THE OBJECTIVE ELEMENT. 

that I put in the water exists for ever; (though I perceive it 
not by my eyes it is felt by my tongue).' (Unto him) said (his 
father), 'Verily, such is the case with the Truth, my child. 
Though you perceive it not, it nevertheless pervades this (body). 
That particle which is the soul of all this is Truth; it is the 
Universal Soul. O Swetaketu, Thou art that'" (Ch. Up., ch. vi. 
sec. 13, p. 113). 

Similar notions of an all-pervading and infinite Being are 
found in the Bhagavat-Gita, a theological episode inserted in 
the great epical poem known as the Mahabharata. There 
Vishnu is not merely the ordinary god Vishnu of Indian the- 
ology; but the universe itself is expressed as an incarnation of 
that deity who is seen in everything and himself is everything. 
" I am the soul, O Arjuna," thus he addresses his mortal pupil, 
"which exists in the heart of all beings, and I am the begin- 
ning and the middle and also the end of existing things "' (Bh. 
a, ch. X. p. 71). 

Again, Vishnu thus describes himself in language which 
translated into ordinary prose, would serve to convey the idea 
embodied in Mr. Herbert Spencer's Unknowable :— 

'"Know that that brilliance which enters the sun and illu- 
mines the whole earth, and which is jn the moon, and in fire, 
is of me. And I enter the ground and support all living 
things by my vigor; and I nourish all herbs, becoming that 
moisture of which the peculiar property is taste. And becom- 
ing fire, I enter the body of the living, and being associated 
with their inspiration and expiration, cause food of the four 
kinds to digest. And I enter the heart or each one, and from 
me come memory, knowledge, and reason " (lb., ch. xv, p. 100). 

Nor did the writers of the Veda and the commentaries 
thereupon omit to look above the concrete forms of the mytho- 
logical gods who people their Pantheon to a more comprehen- 
sive and less comprehensible primordial Source. The gods were 
unfitted to serve as explanations of the origin of the universe by 
reason of the theory that they were not eternal, and that they 
came into existence subsequently to the creation of the world. 
The writer of a hymn in the tenth book of the Eig-Veda asserted 
that " the One, which in the beginning breathed calmly, self- 
sustained, is developed by . . . its own inherent heat, or by 



AN UNKNOWN ULTIMATE ESSENCE. 661 

rigorous and intense abstraction." But this Eislii avowed liim- 
self unable to say anything of creation, or even to know whether 
there was a creator. "Even its ruler in the highest heaven 
may not be in possession of the great secret." Explaining this 
passage, a commentator, writing at a much later date, observes 
that "the last verse of the hymn declares that the ruler of the 
universe knows, or that even he does not know, from what ma- 
terial cause this visible world arose, and whether that material 
cause exists in any definite form or not. That is to say, the 
delaration that 'he knows,' is made from the stand-point of that 
popular conception which distinguishes between the ruler of the 
universe and the creatures over whom he rules ; while the prop- 
osition that 'he does not know' is asserted on the ground of 
that highest principle which, transcending all popular concep- 
tions, affirms the identity of all things with the supreme Soul, 
which canpot see any other existence as distinct from itself" 
(O. S. T., vol. V. pp. 363, 364). 

In this sentence the commentator correctly points out the 
distinction between the Unknown Cause of philosophic thought 
and the gods of popular theology, the latter being limited, and 
having the universe outside of and objective to them, the former 
comprehending it within itself, and having nothing objective 
whatever. And he perceives apparently that these are but dif- 
ferent modes of conceiving the same Ultimate Essence, depend- 
ent on the varying representative capacities of those by whom 
they are employed. 

In India, as elsewhere, this Ultimate Essence had no proper 
name. Sometimes it is spoken of as "That." Thus, in a pas- 
sage quoted by Dr. Muir from the Taittiriya Brahmana we find 
the following: "This [universe] was not 'originally anything. 
There was neither heaven, nor earth, nor atmosphere. That 
being non-existent (asat) resolved 'Let me be.' That became 
fervent," and so forth. Hereupon the commentator states that 
"the Supreme Spirit was non-existent only in respect of name 
and form, but that nevertheless it was really existing (sat)" (O. 
S. T., vol. V. p. 366). 

Prof. Max Miiller, in his essay on the Veda, has observed 
that after naming the several powers of nature, and worshiping 
them as gods, the ancient Hindu found that there was yet 



662 THE OBJECTIVE ELEMENT. 

another power within him and around him for which he had no 
name. This he termed in the first instance "Brahman," force, 
will, wish. But when Brahman too had become a person, he 
called the mysterious and impersonal power " atman," origin- 
ally meaning breath or spirit, subsequently Self. "Atman 
remained always free from myth and worship, differing in this 
from Brahman (neuter), who has his temples in India even now 
and is worshiped as Brahman (masculine), together with Vishnu 
and Siva and other popular gods" (Chips, vol. i. pp. 70, 71). 
Distinguishing these two deities, for the convenience of English 
readers, as Brahm, the neuter, and Brahma, the masculine God, 
it is to be observed that even the latter, who holds in theology 
the function of Creator, is but little worshiped in India, and 
holds no conspicuous place in the popular mind. Thus Wilson 
says, "It is doubtful if Brahma was ever worshiped. Indica- 
tions of local adoration of him at Pushkara, near Ajmir, are 
found in one Purana, the Brahma Parana, but in no other part 
of India is there the slightest vestige of his worship" (W. W., 
vol. ii. p. 63). Elsewhere the same most competent authority 
states "it might be difficult to meet with" any Brahma-wor- 
shipers now; "exclusive adorers of this deity, and temples dedi- 
cated to him, do not now occur perhaps in any part of India; 
at the same time it is an error to suppose that public homage 
is never paid to him." Hereupon he mentions a few places 
where Brahma is particularly reverenced. While, however, 
there may be discovered some faint traces of the worship of 
Brahma the Creator, and first member of the Hindu Trinity, 
there does not appear to be any worship whatever of the more 
impersonal and abstract Brahm. Brahm is related to Brahma 
much as the Absolute or the Unknowable of philosphy is related 
to the God of the Hebrew and Christian Scriptures. In the 
conception of Brahm the idea of deity is pushed to the utmost 
limits of which human thought is capable, and we have a being 
whose very exaltation above the mythological personages who 
pass for gods among the people precludes him from receiving 
the adoration of any but philosophic minds. When therefore 
Professor Max Miiller speaks of temples dedicated to Brahm I 
presume that he is speaking of the temples of Brahma, the cor- 
poreal form of this unembodied idea. For Brahm is stated to 



A SUPREME DIVINITY. 663 

be •* immaterial, invisible, unborn, uncreated, without beginning 
or end;" to be "inapprehensible by the understanding, at least 
until that is freed from the film of mortal blindness;" to be 
devoid of attributes, or to have only purity, and to be " suscep- 
tible of no interest in the acts of man or the administration of 
the affairs of the universe." Conformably to these views, adds 
Wilson, *' no temples are erected, no prayers are even addressed 
to the Supreme " (W. W., vol. ii. p. 91). Thus Brahma, the God, 
is but little worshiped; Brahm, the infinite being, and atman, 
spirit, are not worshiped at all. Now Brahma, the creative and 
formative powerj corresponds to God the Father; while Brahm 
and atman, especially the latter, bear more resemblance to the 
Holy Ghost; a fact to be especially noted in reference to the 
comparison hereafter to be made between the positions occupied 
by the more and the less spiritual members of the Christian 
Trinity. 

Thus we have this singular neglect of the Supreme Divinity 
prevailing among ancient heathens, among modern Africans, 
among Hindus of all ages, and among pre-Christian Mexicans 
and Peruvians. Do Judaism, and its offshoot, Christianity, 
offer no sign of a similar relegation of the highest to an invisi- 
ble background ? I think they do. The evidence is not indeed 
quite so simple as in the other cases. But it is deserving of 
remark that the ordinary name for God in Hebrew, Elohim, is 
plural, and must at one time have signified gods; while the 
word which is sometimes used alone, but more commonly in 
combination with it, is regarded as so sacred that the Jews in 
reading the Scriptures never pronounce it, but substitute 
Adonai, my lord, in its place. Owing to this ancient custom 
the very sound of the wordnifl'' ^las been absolutely forgotten, 
and Jehovah, by which we commonly render it, has been 
merely constructed by supplying the vowels from Adonai. Now 
the existence of a most holy name, but rarely used, and then 
only with great .reverence, is a manifestation of religious feel- 
ing exactly corresponding to that related by Eeade concerning 
the African name Njambi. Suppose that with the progress of 
theological dogmas and ecclesiastical usages the use of the word 
Njambi should be entirely dropped, its pronunciation might then 
be entirely lost (if, as in Hebrew, its vowel sounds were never 



664 THE OBJECTIVE ELEMENT. 

written). And with the adoption of a ttionotheistic creed some 
name, now belonging to an idol, inight be used as synonymous 
with Njambi. Now something of this kind may have happened 
with the Hebrews. There can be little doubt that the Elohim 
were originally gods accepted by the Hebrews as part of a 
polytheistic system. Deep in the minds of Hebrew thinkers lay 
the more abstract notion of a single God, more powerful and 
more mysterious than the Elohim. They called him Jahveh, or 
whatever else may have been the name expressed byj^^fji. Bat 
as the monotheistic view triumphed over the polytheistic, the 
Elohim were adopted into the framework of the new religion, 
and in a manner subordinated to Jahveh by a process of fusion. 
The name of Jahveh, which must once have been in common 
use, was now treated as too holy to be ever uttered by mortal 
lips. The ancient God who had stood at the head of the system 
of his party, was in a certain sense withdrawn from active life, 
but retained as the nominal occupant of supreme authority. 
Whether this account is probable or not, must be left to bet- 
ter judges to decide, but it tends at least to bring the history of 
the Jewish faith into harmony with that of other religions. 

Moreover, it is interesting to observe that a process extremely 
similar to that here imagined as occurring in the development 
of Judaism, was actually passed through by its younger rival. 
Christianity, arising in the midst of a people who had arrived 
at highly abstract views of deity, proceeded at once to do what 
so many other creeds have done, to embody the conception of 
divine power in a concrete object. This concrete object was in 
the Christian theology a man. And as generally happens in 
these cases, the more abstract idea was overshadowed and to 
some extent driven from the field by the more concrete. Christ 
occupies a larger place both in authorized Christian worship and 
in the popular Christian imagination than does his Father. The 
creed no doubt treats them both with equal reverence, as per- 
sons in a single God; but to understand what is truly felt and 
believed by the people, we must look not to the letter of their 
creeds, but to their actual, and above all their unconscious 
practice. Doing this we find first an entire absence of any 
special festival in honor of the Father.* Look at the large 

* The remark is not mine, but is made by Didron, a devout Roman 



CONCRETE OBJECT OF CHRISTIAN WORSHIP. 665 

place occupied by the history of Jesus in ecclesiastical fast-days 
and feast-days. We have the Annunciation, the Nativity, the 
forty days of Lent, the Crucifixion, the Kesurrection, the Ascen- 
sion, all referring to him. But we have quite forgotten to cele- 
brate the creation of the human species, the expulsion from 
Eden, the deluge, the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah, and 
other mighty works due to his Father. The weekly holiday, 
originally a memorial of his repose on the seventh day, has 
indeed been retained from Judaism; yet even here its reference 
has been changed from the history of the first person to that 
of the second by its transfer from the last day of the week to 
the first. But this is not all. Didron remarks that in early 
works of art Jesus is made to take the place of his Father in 
creation and in similar labors, just as in heathen religions an 
inferior divinity does the work under a superior one. Dishonor- 
able and even ridiculous positions were assigned to God the 
Father. The more ancient artists were reluctant to paint the 
whole of the First Person, just as Africans, Peruvians and 
Hebrews were reluctant to speak his name. A mere hand or an 
arm is held sufficient to represent him. But in the thirteenth 
and fourteenth centuries, God the Father begins to manifest his 
figure; at first his bust only, and then his whole person. In 
the fourteenth century we take part in the birth and develop- 
ment of the figure of the eternal Father. At first equal to his 
Son in age and station, he begins in process of time to become 
slightly different, until, towards 1360, the notion of paternity is 
attached irrevocably to him; ho is thenceforth uniformly older 
than his Son, and assumes the first place in the Trinity. The 
middle age may be divided (according to Didron) into two 
periods. . In the first, preceding the fourteenth century, we have 
the Father in the image and similitude of the Son. In the 
second, after the thirteenth century until the sixteenth, Jesus 
Christ loses his iconographic distinctness, and is conquered by 
his Father. He in his turn puts on the likeness of the Father, 
becoming old and wrinkled like him (Ic. Ch., p. 148-203. Basing 
his conclusions on these remarkable disclosures, Michelet, in 
his "History of France," observes with considerable reason 

Catholic writer, to whom I am much indebted for this and other hints.— ic 
Oh., p. 672 n. 



666 THE OBJECTIVE ELEMENT. 

that from the first century until the twelfth God was not wor- 
shiped by Christians. Nay, even for fifteen centuries not a tem- 
ple, not an altar was erected to him. And when he did venture 
to appear beside his Son in Christian art, he remained neglected 
and solitary. Nobody made an offering to him, or caused a 
mass to be said in his honor (Michelet, *'Histoire de France," 
vol. vii. p. xlix). 

But while the first Person of the Trinity has now obtained, 
especially in Protestant countries, a degree of recognition which 
he did not always enjoy, there remains behind another Person, 
who is more abstract, more spiritual, more undefinable than 
either the Father or the Son. Formally included in the litur- 
gies of the Church, having an office established in his honor, 
churches dedicated to his name, this member of the Trinity has 
nevertheless been strangely neglected by all Christian nations. 
Nobody practically worships the Holy Ghost ; nobody p^ys him 
especial attention; nobody appears to be much concerned about 
his proceedings. Artists have treated him with a degree of in- 
difference which they have never manifested towards Jesus 
Christ. Not only have they sometimes forgotten to include the 
Holy Ghost in their representations of the Godhead, but they 
have omitted him even from a scene where he had the best pos- 
sible claim to figure, namely, the reception of the Spirit by the 
apostles at the feast of Pentecost. Elsewhere they have not 
completely left him out, but have placed him in an attitude of 
subordination and indignity, evincing but scant respect, as 
where an artist had depicted an angel as apparently restraining 
the impetuosity of the dove by holding its tail in both his 
hands. While in the Catacombs it was the Father who was 
suppressed, in the Trinities of the twelfth, fifteenth, and six- 
teenth centuries it is the Holy Ghost who is found to be miss- 
ing. "Thus," observes the Koman Catholic author to whom I 
am indebted for these facts, "the Holy Ghost has sometimes 
had reason to complain of the artists" (Ic. Chr., p. 489-4:95). 

Were this Person, in fact, disposed to be punctilious, it is not 
only artists, mere reflectors of the general sentiment, but the 
whole Christian world of whom he would have reason to com- 
plain. So little does he occupy the ordinary thoughts of Chris- 
tians, that Abailard gave the greatest offense by naming a mon- 



LATER WORSHIP OF SAINtS. 667 

astery after him, and this procedure of the great theologian 
remains, I believe, a solitary example in ecclesiastical history 
of such am. honor being paid to the Paraclete. Yet surely he 
who bears the great office of the Comforter is deserving of some 
more express recognition than he now receives! What is the 
cause of this universal oblivion ? I suspect it is that which 
leads to the neglect by the Africans of their highest god, 
namely, his entire innocuousness. We saw that various tribes, 
while omitting to worship a benevolent deity, who will never 
do them any kind of harm, address their prayers to a class of 
gods who are described by travelers as demons, or evil spirits, 
but whom they no doubt regard as mixtures of good qualities 
with bad; capable of propitiation by prayer, but resentful of 
irreverence. Now the Father and the Son correspond in some 
degree to these inferior gods. Not that they are actively malev- 
olent, but they have certain characteristics of a terrifying order. 
God the Father is throughout the Bible, the author of chastise- 
ments and scourges. God the son, merciful though he be, yet 
intimates that he will return to judge the world, and that he 
will disavow those who are not truly his disciples, thus con- 
signing them to the secular arm of God the Father, who will 
condemn them to eternal punishment. But God the Spirit has 
no share in these horrors. Whenever he appears upon the 
scene, he is quiet, gentle, and inoffensive; and these qualities, 
combined with the absence of the more definite personality 
possessed by his colleagues, have effectually ensured his com- 
parative insignificance in Christian worship and in Christian 
thought. 

While this has been the course of affairs in reference to the 
persons in the Trinity— who, though dogmatically one, are 
popularly and practically three — a simultaneous displacement 
of all its members by still more comprehensible objects of wor- 
ship has been going on. First in rank among these stands the 
Virgin Mary, so universally worshiped in Catholic countries. 
After her come the mass of saints, some of general, some of 
local celebrity; but who, no doubt, receive, each from his or 
her particular devotees, a far larger share of devotional atten- 
tion than the Father or the Son themselves. For they are 
requested to intercede with these more exalted potentates; and 



668 THE OBJECTIVE ELEMENT. 

we naturally pay more regard to our intercessors, show them 
more assiduous respect, feel towards them more gratitude, than 
we do to those with whom they intercede, and who stand too 
far above us to be approached directly by us. Keightley, in his 
''History of England,'^ expresses himself as shocked by the far 
larger share of the offerings of the pious received at Canterbury 
by the altar of Thomas-a-Becket than was received by the 
altars of the Virgin and of the Son. The proportion is as fol- 
lows:— In one year St. Thomas received £832, 12s. 3d.; the- 
Virgin £63, 5s. 6d. ; Christ only £3, 2s. 6d. Next year the mar- 
tyr had £954, 6s. 3d. ; Mary £4, Is. 8d. ; and Christ nothing at 
all. This relation is perfectly natural. Thomas-a-Becket was 
the local saint. He stood nearer to the people, was more intel- 
ligible to their minds, than the Virgin Mary; and the latter, 
again, was more intelligible to them than Jesus Christ, whose 
mystic attributes she did not share. This fact does but illus- 
trate the common tendency of mankind to neglect the worship 
of the highest deity recognized in their formal creed, and to 
offer their prayers and their sacrifices to idols of lower preten- 
sions and more human proi^ortions. 

That which, as the upshot of these speculations, we are 
chiefly concerned to note, is that religion everywhere contains, 
as its most essential ingredient, the conception of an unknown 
power; which power, thus offered by religion to the adoration 
of mankind, becomes the object of a double tendency: a ten- 
dency on the one hand to preserve it as a dim idea, represented 
to the mind under highly abstract forms; a tendency on the 
other hand, to bring it down to common comprehension by pre- 
senting it to the senses under concrete symbols. But under all 
images, however material; under all embodiments, however 
gross ; the central thought of a power hidden behind sensible 
phenomena, unknown and unknowable, still remains. 

So far then as historical inquiry throws light upon the 
answer to the second question in the previous chapter, that 
answer will be in the affirmative. It renders it at least highly 
probable that the common elements of religion are, from their 
universal or all but universal prevalence, *'a necessary and 
therefore permanent portion of our mental furniture." Nor is 
this conclusion invalidated by the hypothetical objection that 



CEUDE AND METAPHYSICAL REALISM. 669 

there are races without a religion at alL Granting the fact, it 
admits of an explanation quite consistent with this view. For 
the races which are destitute of the religious idea may be so, 
not because they are superior to it, and can do without it, but 
because they are inferior to it, and have not yet perceived it. 
Thus, the savage nations who cannot count beyond their fingers, 
prove nothing against the necessity of numerical relations. 
Even though they caunot add their ten toes to their ten fingers, 
and thus make twenty, yet the moment we perceive that ten 
plus ten equals twenty, we perceive also that this relation is 
an absolute necessity, and it- remains an unalterable fact in our 
intellectual treasury. No inability on the part of the savage to 
understand us can shake our conviction. Now the same thing 
may hold good of the ultimate elements of religious feeling. 
These also, when once the conditions are realized in thought, 
may prove necessary beliefs. Whether they are so or not is a 
question for philosophy. To th^ examiuation of that question 
we must now proceed. 

Eeligion, as the foregoing analysis has shown, puts forward 
as its cardinal truth the conception of a power which is neither 
perceptible by the senses nor definable by the intellect. For 
sensible perception requires a material object and a material 
organ ; and intellectual definition requires an object which can 
be compared with other objects that are like it, discriminated 
from others that are unlike it, and classified according to that 
likeness and that unlikene§s. In either case therefore the 
object must be a phenomenon having its place among phenom- 
ena, whether those of the sensible or those of ti.e intelligible 
sphere. But if the power accepted by religion be neither per- 
ceptible nor definable, are we obliged to believe in the existence 
of BO abstract an entity at all, or may we reject it as a figment 
of the human brain ? 

Perhaps we shall best be able to discover whether such a 
belief is necessary or not by endeavoring to do without it, and 
to frame a consistent conception of the universe from which it 
is entirely excluded. 

There are various ways in which such a conception might be 
attempted. We may regard the world from the platform of 



670 THE OBJECTIVE ELEMENT. 

Bealism or from that of Idealism, and the nature of our Kealism 
or of our Idealism may vary with the special school of thought 
to which we may belong. Kealism in the first instance admits 
of two main subdivisions : into Common, or as Mr. Spencer calls 
it, Crude Eealism, and into Metaphysical Eealism; and these 
two forms of it require separate treatment. 

Common Bealism is the primitive opinion of uneducated and 
of unreflecting persons, and is in fact simply the absence of any 
genuine opinion at all. They, I imagine, regard the external 
objects by which they are surrounded as so many actual enti- 
ties, not only having an independent existence of their own, but 
an existence like that which they possess in out consciousness. 
Thus, an egg they would take to be in reality a white, brittle, 
hard thing on the outside, having a certain shape, size, and 
weight, and containing inside the shell a quantity of soft whit- 
ish and yellowish substance with a given taste. These q-ualities, 
not excepting the taste, taken along with any other qualities 
that may be disclosed by more careful inquiry, they would con- 
ceive to constitute the whole of the egg. It is the same with 
other objects. What we perceive by our senses is thought by 
them to be a copy of the real things as they exist in nature, 
much as the retina of the eye, regarded from without, is seen to 
contain a copy in miniature of the surrounding scene. Com- 
mon Eealism, however, while it tacitly takes for granted an 
infinite number of separate entities, cannot account either for 
the origin of those entities or for their nature. Nor has it any 
account to give of the origin of life, for material things are in 
this system utterly destitute of life, and indeed opposed to it. 
They are precisely what our senses inform us of, and nothing 
more. Hence they furnish no answers to the questions: How 
did this world come into being, and how did it reach its present 
shape ? How do men concie to exist in it ; for matter contains 
no vitality and no power of infusing vitality into itself? There- 
fore it is that the adherents of Common Eealism are invariably 
driven back upon a superior being, whom they term a Creator, 
and who supplies the motive impulse which is wanting in their 
world. 

Metaphysical Eealism professes to be the improvement of 
scholars upon the unsifted notions of the vulgar. It is the sys- 



THE METAPHYSICAL SUBSTBATA. 671 

tern to which, in its earlier and cruder form, Berkeley a century 
ago gave what once appeared to be its death-blow, but what 
may perhaps turn out to have been a wound sufQciently severe 
to cause prolonged insensibility, but not absolute extinction. 
It is not, however, with the purpose of completing the work of 
destruction, but of examining whether it affords a possible 
escape from the necessity of the religious postulate, that I refer 
to it here. Metaphysical Realists perceived clearly enough that 
the apparent qualities of sensible objects could not be the 
objects themselves. Even if they did not recognize this with 
regard to all the apparent qualities, they did so with regard to 
those termed "secondary," such as taste, smell, and color. 
Later representatives of the school, such as Kant, extended the 
process by which this conclusion was reached to all apparent 
qualities, whatsoever. Below the apparent qualities, however, 
these thinkers assumed a substance, "substantia," in which 
they inhered, and by which they were bound together, so 
as to constitute the object. And this substance — something 
unperceived underlying the qualities perceived — was their 
notion of matter. Observe now the position we have arrived 
at. No sooner does Realism abandon the untenable hypoth- 
esis that the qualities of the object are the object itself, 
than it is driven upon the assumption of an utterly unknowable 
and inconceivable entity; a matter which is not perceptible by 
any of our senses, which is below, or in addition to, phenomena 
concerning which we can predicate nothing, and whose relation 
to the qualities it is supposed to support we cannot understand. 
But the necessity of some such assumption is the very assertion 
implied in all forms of religious faith. Realism, then, does not 
escape the pressure of this necessity, even though the entity it 
assumes is not precisely of the same character. 

But is the difference in its character one that tells in favor 
of this variety of Realism, op in favor of religion ? Assuredly 
substance, or matter, imagined as the bond between apparent 
qualities, is not an easier, simpler, or more intelligible concep- 
tion than that of a universal power as the origin, source, or 
objective side of all physical phenomena. Granting even that 
the latter conception cannot be represented to the mind, a rep- 
resentation of the former is equally impossible. But does it 



672 THE OBJECTIVE ELEMENT. 

explain the facts better? Let us see. In the first place, we 
must demand an accurate definition of what this supposed mat- 
ter is. Is it passive, inanimate, incapable of independent action, 
and unable to develop out of itself the living creatures which 
in tome way have come to exist? If so, we plainly require an- 
other entity in addition to matter, both to account for the active 
forces of our universe, and to originate the phenomenon of life. 
Eor if the qualities of body need a substratum, so also do those 
of mind. If it be held that the power from which mind ema- 
nates be the same as that-which is evinced in so-called physical 
forces, then we have two distinct, if not independent, sub- 
stances, beings, or whatever we may prefer to call them: mat- 
ter, pervading material objects in their statical condition, and 
force or life, pervading both consciousness and material objects 
in their dynamical conditioD. Or if the first be regarded as 
sufficient to account for motion as well as matter, then we have 
still two powers, one subsisting throughout the physical, the 
other throughout the mental world. How are these two sub- 
stances related to one another ? Is the substance of mind 
supreme, governing its material colleague? or is that of matter 
at the head of affairs, and that of mind subordinate ? or are 
they equal and coordinate authorities, as in the Gnostic philos- 
ophy? Suppose we endeavor to elude these difficulties by the 
assertion that there is nothing else but the unperceivable sub- 
stratum supporting material objects, and that in this all modes 
of existence take their rise, we are met by further and still 
more troublesome questions. For if, under the manifestations 
of this substance we include consciousness, then the distinction 
between matter and mind has vanished, and in calling this sub- 
stance matter we are simply giving it an unmeaning name. In 
fact, it is a substance supporting not only the qualities of 
bodies, but also the chemical, electric, molar, molecular, and 
other forces throughout the universe, as well as sensation, 
thought, and emotion. Matter in short does everything which 
deity can be required to do; it originates motion; it produces 
living creatures ; it feels; it thinks; 'it lives. Thus we have but 
stumbled upon God. in an unexpected quarter. Suppose, how- 
ever, that we take what is in this system the easier and more 
natural hypothesis of a substance of matter, a substance of 



IDEALISM: MODERATE AND EXTREME. 673 

mind, and a still more hidden power superior to both, and from 
which both are derived, then we have but abandoned the per- 
plexing questions raised by metaphysical Realism to take refuge 
in the religious position from which it seemed to offer a plausi- 
ble deliverance. 

Does Idealism help us? Idealism is of several forms. That 
represented by Berkeley need not occupy us here, for Berkeley 
not only admitted, but expressly asserted, the existence of an 
all-comprehending Power, and without this his philosophy 
would have appeared to himself unmeaning and incomprehen- 
sible. Nor n.eed we stop to examine that more recent species of 
Idealism, as I hold it to be, which its illustrious author, Mr. Her- 
bert Spencer, has christened Transfigured Eealism. Whatever 
differences may exist between Spencer and Berkeley — and I 
believe them to be more apparent than real — they are at one 
in the cardinal doctrine that sensible phenomena are but the 
varied manifestations of this ultimate Power. All such Idealism 
as this is in harmony with religion. But there are two forms 
which seem to be at variance with it, one of which I will term 
Moderate, and the other Extreme Idealism. 

Moderate Idealism agrees with Berkeley in dismissing to the 
limbo of extinct metaphysical creatures the substance supposed 
to lurk beneath the apparent qualities of bodies. It holds that 
there is no such substance, and that these qualities, and there- 
fore bodies themselves, exist only in consciousness. But it dif- 
fers from Berkeley in omitting to provide any source whatever, 
external to ourselves, from which these bodies can be derived. 
Not only are they in their phenomenal aspect mere states of 
our own consciousness, but they have no other aspect than the 
phenomenal one, and are in themselves nothing but phenom- 
ena. Rather inconsistently, this school of Idealism does not 
push its reasoning to its natural results, but concedes to other 
human beings something more than a merely phenomenal 
existence. Nothing exists but states of consciousness ; but those 
peculiar states of my consciousness which I term men and 
women may be shown, by careful reasoning, to possess (in all 
probability) an existence of their own, even apart from my see- 
ing, hearing, or feeling them. The process by which we reach 
this conclusion " is exactly parallel to that by which Newtou 



674 THE OBJECTIVE ELEMENT. 

proved that the force which keeps the planets in their orbits is 
identical with that by which an apple falls to the ground."* 

Those peculiar modifications of color, and that special mode 
of filling up empty space which I term "my friend," do indeed 
seem, if we push matters to an extreme, to come into existence 
only when he enters my room, and to cease to exist the 
moment he quits it. If he has any further vitality, it is only 
in the shape of that state of consciousness which is known as 
recollection. But Moderate Idealism escapes from this conse- 
quence, on the ground that modifications of body and outward 
actions, since they are connected with feelings 4n ourselves, 
must be connected with feelings also in the case of those other 
phenomena which we term human beings, and perhaps in the 
case of those we term animals. t But if this be so, how did so 
extraordinary a fact as that of consciousness arise ? Ex hypoth- 
esi, there was nothing before it. Did it then suddcnl>-' spring 
into being, full-grown like Minerva, but, unlike Minerva', v;ith 
no head of Jupiter to spring from ? Or was it a gradual growth, 
and if so, from what origin ? Go back as far as you will, you 
can find nothing but consciousness, and that the consciousness 
of limited beings (either men or animals) ; and it is no less 
difficult to conceive the beginning, from nothing at all, of the 
least atom of conscious life, than to conceive that of the pro- 
foundest philosopher. Observe, there is no world of any kind, 
and in this no-world (the contradiction is unavoidable) there 
suddenly arises, from no antecedent, a consciousness of external 
objects which are no-objects. Geology upon this theory is a 
myth ; so is that branch of astronomy which treats of the for- 
mation of our planetary system from nebular matter. Stars, 
suns, planets, and crust of the earth only arose when they were 
13erceived, and will cease to be when there is no living creature 
to perceive them any longer. Since, however, conclusions like 
these are in reality unthinkable, whatever efforts meteiphysi- 
cians may make to think them, Moderate Idealism must of 

* Mill's " Examination of Sir W. Hamilton's Philosophy." p. 209 (second 
edition). 

t Mr. Mill, in treating the point, seems to have forgotten the animal 
world, but his argument would cover it.— Mill's "Examination of Sir W. 
Hamilton's Thilosophy," pp. 208, 209, 



EXTREME IDEALISM UNTHINKABLE. 675 

necessity complete its fabric by the admission of a Power from 
which both consciousness and the objects of consciousness have 
taken their rise. Should it persist in denying anything but a 
mental reality to the objects of consciousness, it must still sup- 
pose an unknown source from Which consciousness itself has 
been derived ; otherwise it will entangle itself in two unthinka- 
ble propositions. First, that before men (or animals) existed 
there was absolute nothingness, an idea which we cannot frame; 
secondly, that where there was nothing at one moment there 
was the next moment something, a process which we cannot 
realize without supposing a time antecedent to that something, 
and which we may not, without the contradiction of introducing 
time in the midst of nothingness, realize by supposing a time 
antecedent to that something. 

It was no doubt the vague feeling of these perplexities that 
forced John Stuart Mill, the most eminent defender of this 
school of thought, to denominate matter a Permanent Possibil- 
ity of Sensation. This singular phrase well exemplifies the 
difficulties of his position. For is matter an external substance, 
existing independently, or not ? If it is, then what becomes of 
the Berkeleyau doctrine? Mill and his followers are simply 
metaphysical Realists. But if not, what becomes of the perma- 
nence ? It is not in us,, for our sensations are not permanent ; 
it is not in the matter, for there is none. And what is there a 
possibility of ? Causing sensation, or having it ? Not the for- 
mer, for there is nothing to cause it; not the latter, for the 
possibility of our having sensations is a mere fact of our nature, 
and cannot serve to define matter. And where is the sensation 
located ? The phraseology would seem to imply, that matter 
is in the permanent condition of possible feeling; just as the 
nerve may be in the permanent condirion of. possible excitation. 
But this would be placing sensation in the wrong quarter. And 
if sensation be in us, we have not a permanent possibility, bat 
a [lermanent actuality of sensation. So that unless the words 
be construed to mean that there is outside of us a permanent 
something which excites sensation, of which the modes vary (for 
this is the sense of possibility), they have no assignable mean- 
ing whatever. Mill, in fact, had been compelled, without wish- 
ing it, to recognize an ultimate power in nature; and his per- 



676 THE OBJECTIVE ELEMENT. 

ception of this truth conflicted strangely, in his candid mind, 
with his idealistic prepossessions. 

A more consistent and rigorous form of Idealism is that which 
lias been referred to as the strict consequence of Moderate 
Idealism. This form, which I will term Extreme Idealism, 
denies the existence of persons as well as things. The Ex- 
treme Idealist believes himself to be the only being in the 
universe. There is to him no period preceding his own exist- 
ence ; none succeeding it. Past and future, except in his own 
life, have no meaning for him. We cannot reason with him, 
for all we may say is only a transient mode of his own son- 
sajtions. Obviously, to such a philosophy there is no reply but 
one : it is simply unthinkable. Were any one seriously to defend 
it, the very seriousness of his defense would prove that he did 
not believe it. For against what or whom would he be contend- 
ing? Against a phantom of his own mind. And the more 
pains he took to prove to us that he believed us to have no 
existence but as a part of himself, the less credit should we 
attach to his assertions. 

Philosophy, therefore, is under a logical compulsion to make 
the same fundamental assumption as Keligion — that of an ulti- 
mate, unknown, and all-pervading Power Origin, or Cause. 
Science, in a variety of ways, does the same. It does so, first, 
in its belief of a past and a future in the history of the solar 
system far transcending the past and future of humanity, or 
indeed of any form of life whatever. Passing at a glance over 
our brief abode on the face of the earth. Geology pushes its 
researches back into a time preceding by innumerable ages the 
existence of mankind, while her elder sister Astronomy carries 
her vision to a still remoter age, when even the planet we now 
inhabit was but a fragment in one indistinguishable mass. But 
it is not only these two sciences that assume the continuance 
of -nature quite independently of our presence or absence; every 
other science does the like. The botanist, the chemist, the 
physicist, all believe that the facts they assert are facts in an 
external nature, the relations of which as now discovered by 
their several sciences held good before man existed, and will 
hold good after he has ceased to exist. But to say this, is to 
say in effect that there is something more than the mere phe- 



SCIENCE: ITS ONTOLOGICAL BASIS. 677 

« 
nomena disclosed b^^ investigation; namely, an external reality 

persisting through all time in which the varied series of phenom- 
ena take their rise. 

More clearly still does Science assert some such reality in its 
great modern doctrine of the Persistence of Force. Not that 
this doctrine is entirely new; for regarded in its metaphysical 
rather than its physical aspect it is but an expression in the 
language of the day of a truth which has long been realized as 
a necessity of thought. It is the converse of the ancient axiom, 
*' Nihil ex nihilo fit," for if nothing can be made from nothing, 
neither can something pass into nothing. The Persistence of 
Force is an expression of the fact that every cause must have 
an adequate effect; that in nature nothing can be lost, no par- 
ticle of force pass into nonentity. Concentrated forces may be 
dissipated, and dissipated forces may be concentrated; or one 
variety of force may pass into another. But the ultimate fund 
of force remains ever unchangeable; nothing is ever created, 
nothing destroyed. 

Observe, then, that Science, however cauiiously it may keep 
within the range of the material world, however eagerly it may 
repudiate all investigation of ultimate causes as fruitless and 
unprofitable, cannot take one single step towards proving the 
propositions it advances without tacitly laying down an onto- 
logical entity as the basis of its demonstration. For to speak of 
its discoveries as laws of nature is simply to predicate a con- 
stant, unvarying force, which under like conditions alwaj^s pro- 
duces like results. And to declare the uniformity of nature, is 
merely to say that the methods of that force do not change — 
that it is the same now as it ever was, and will be the same 
throughout the eternal ages. 

"Thus," writes Mr. Herbert Spencer, "by the Persistence of 
Force, we really mean the persistence of some Power which 
transcends our knowledge and conception. The manifestations, 
as occurring in ourselves or outside of us, do not persist; but 
that which persists is the Unknown Cause of these maifesta- 
tions. In other words, asserting the Persistence of Force, is but 
another mode of asserting an Unconditional Keality, without 
beginning or end " (Spencer's "First Principles," § 60, p. 189). 

Philosophy, or Eeasoned Thought, and Science, or Reasoned 



678 THE OBJECTITE ELEMENT. 

Observation, have both led us to admit, as a fundamental prin- 
ciple, the nece-sary existence of an unknown, inconceivable, and 
omnipresent Power, whose operations are ever in progress 
before our eyes, but whose nature is, and can never cease to be, 
an impenetrable mystery. And this is the cardinal truth of all 
religion. From all sides then, by every mode of contemplation, 
we are forced upon the same irresistible conclusion. The final 
question still remains. Is this ultimate element of all religion 
*' the correlative of any actual truth or not ?" 

But for the prevalence, in recent times, of a philosophy which 
denies all connection between the necessity of a belief and its 
truth, I should have regarded such a question as scarcely worth 
the answering. To say that a belief is necessary and to say 
that it is true, would appear to all, but adherents of the 
extreme experiential school, one and the same thing. But in 
the present day this cannot be taken for granted, and L should 
be the last to complain tiiat even that which seems most 
obvious should be tested hj adverse criticism. 

Ingenious, however, as their arguments are, philosophers of 
this school, when driven to reason out their views, cut their own 
throats. They commit a logical suicide. For what is the test 
of truth they hold up to us in lieu of necessity? Experience. 
But what in the last resort does our belief in experience rest 
upon ? Simply upon a mental necessity. Nobody can tell us 
why he believes that the laws of nature will hold good to-mor- 
row as they do to-day. He can indeed tell us that he has 
alwa^^s found them constant before, and therefore expects them 
to remain so. But this is merely to state the belief, not to 
justify it. Experience itself cannot be appealed to, to support 
our confidence in experience. True, we habitually say that we 
believe such and such results will follow such and siieh ante- 
cedents because we have always found them follow before. But 
our past experience is not the whole- of the fact involved in the 
belief. It is our past experience, conjoined with the mental 
necessity of thinking that the future will resemble the past, 
that forms the convictions on which we act. Experience alone, 
without that mental necessity, could teach us nothing. If 
therefore our necessary beliefs need not be true, the belief in 
experience falls to the ground along with the rest, and expe- 



GROUNDED IN NECESSARY TRUTHS. 679 

rience cannot be piA in place of necessity as a test of truth. 
In fact, every argument drawn from the past fallibility of the 
test of necessity might be retorted with tenfold force against 
the test of experience. Observation has constantly misled man- 
kind, and thousands of alleged facts, accepted upon imagined 
experience, have been disproved by more accurate examination. 
Observation and reasoning combined (as they often are) are 
exposed to the double danger of false premises and false infer- 
ences from true premises; while the addition of an element of 
testimony (a circumstance common in scientific inquiries) ex- 
poses every conclusion to a threefold possibility of error. Hu- 
man beings are no more exempt from the possibility of mistaken 
science than from that of hasty metaphysics. But as, in mat- 
ters of physical research, we do not discredit the use of our 
eyes because their perceptions are sometimes inaccurate, so in 
matters of metaphysical inquiry we need not discredit the use 
of our minds because their apparent intuitions are now and 
then fallacious. In the one case, as in the other, the proper 
course is not to cast contempt upon the only instruments of dis- 
covery we have, but to apply those instruments again and 
again, omitting no precautiofi that may serve to correct an ob- 
servation and to test an argument. But when we have done our 
utmost to attain whatever certainty the nature of the subject 
permits, we cannot reasonably turn round upon ourselves and 
say: "True, my eyes assure me of this fact, but human eyes 
have erred so often that I cannot accept their verdict;" or, 
"No doubt my mind forces this conclusion upon me as a neces- 
sity of thought, but so many assumed necessities have turned 
out not to be necessary at all that I must refuse to listen to 
my mind : " for this is not really the caution of science, but the 
rashness of philosophic theory. For we can have no higher 
conviction than that arising in a necessity of thought. NcJthing 
can surpass the certainty of this. Grant that we may yet be 
wrong: we can never know it, and we can have no reason to 
think it. To oppose to a necessary belief such a train of rea- 
soning as this : 

Necessary beliefs (so-called) have often proved false: 
This is a necessary belief (so-called): 



680 a?HE OBJECTIVE ELEMENT. 

Therefore it may prove false, 

is in reality to seek to overthrow a strong conviction by a weak 
one ; an intuition by a syllogism ; a proposition felt immedi- 
ately to be true by an inference open to discussion. Arguments 
like this resemble the procedure of a man who should tell us, 
when we meet a friend, that we cannot possibly be sure of his 
identity because on some previous occasion in our lives we mis- 
took Jones for Thompson. 

Exaggerated as this doctrine of the experiential school is 
thus seen to be, yet it has done good service by putting thinkers 
on their guard, not to accept as necessary and ultimate some 
beliefs which are only contingent and dissoluble. Two condi- 
tions must be fulfilled in order to effect a presumption of neces- 
sity. The belief must always arise under certain conditions; 
that is, it must be universal in the only sense in which' that 
term can fitly be applied. Having arisen, it must be incapable 
of expulsion from the mind; its terms must adhere to.qether so 
firmly that they cannot be parted by adverse criticism, either 
our own or that of others. Both these conditions are fulfilled 
by the fundamental postulate of religion. Given the appropri- 
ate condii ions — human beings raised even a little above the 
lowest savagery — and it at once takes possession of their 
min(Js. ^^After this, it persists in spite of every attempt to do 
without it, and the highest philosophy is compelled to give it 
the place of honor in the forefront of its teaching. 

Observe now, that what this philosophy accepts and incor- 
porates into its system is religion and not th^logy. These two 
must be broadly distinguished from one another. Keligion might 
be described as the soul of which theology is the body. Eelig- 
ion is an abstract, indefinable, pervading sentiment; theology a 
concrete, well-defined, limited creed. The one is emotional; the 
other intellectual. The one is a constant element of our nature ; 
the other fluctuates from generation to generation, and varies 
from place to place. Theology seeks to bind down religion wiih 
immovable forms. Against these forms there is constantly 
arising both an intellectual and an emotional protest. The 
intellect objects to them as untrue in the name of science (in 
the largest sense); the emotions struggle against them as 



THE DIVINE BECOMES FLESH AND SPIRIT. 681 

cramping their freedom in the name of religion itself. Thus 
between the human mind and dogma, between the religious 
sentiment and dogma, there is going on a perpetual warfare. 
Religious sentiment is no sooner born than the tendency to 
limit and to define makes itself felt. It is confined within a 
set of dogmas, and forbidden under every species of pains and 
penalties to pass over its allotted bounds. Sooner or later, 
religious sentiment bursts through every restriction ; seems for 
a moment to breathe the invigorating air of freedom, but faUs 
again into the hands of new theologians, with another frame- 
work of dogmas ; to be again broken through in its turn when 
its fettering influence can be no longer borne. In carrying on 
this continually renovated contest — which is seen in its highest 
activity in great religious reformations — the religious sentiment 
seeks the alliance of intellect, which latter supplies it with 
deadly weapons drawn from the armories of science, logic, and 
historical research. Thus the overthrow of theology is in great 
part an intellectual work. But it must not be forgotten that 
the very deepest hostility to theological systems is inspired by 
the very emotion to which these systems seek to give a formal 
and definite expression. , 

The historical progress of religion is thus in some degree a 
counterpart of the progress described by Heine (in the lines 
heading this Book) as that of his individual mind. First of all 
there arises in the mind of man, so soon as he begins to specu- 
late on the world in which he lives, the idea of a Creator. He 
cannot conceive the existence of the material objects with which . 
he is familiar without conceiving also some being more power- 
ful than himself who has made them what they are. His 
notions of creation may be, no doubt often are, extremely lim- 
ited. He may confine the operations of his God to that small 
portion of the universe with which he is most familiar. But 
that the idea of an invisible yet preeminent deity arises very 
early in the mental development of the human race, and 
remains brooding dimly above the popular idolatry, has been 
abundantly shown. This is the belief in God the Father. The 
second stage, so closely interwoven with the first as to be 
inseparable from it in actual history, is the incarnation of this 
idea. The supreme Creator is too lofty, too abstract, too great. 



682 THE OBJECTIVE ELEMENT. 

to be held steadily before the mind and worshiped in his 
unclouded glory. The children of Israel cannot bear the imme- 
diate presence of Jehovah, nor can eve» Moses meet the bright- 
ness of his face. Hence the material shapes in which the 
objects of adoration are embodied. When divine attributes are 
given to idols ; when a golden calf is taken instead of the invis- 
ible God; when the Father is said to assume the form of a 
man to live a human life, and die a human death, when apostles, 
saints, and virgins are addressed in prayer or celebrated in 
praise, an incarnation has occurred. In the language of the 
traditions we have quoted, the supreme God has gone away and 
left, the government of the world to his inferiors. Practically, 
such incarnations belong to the earliest period of religion, and 
no popular creed has ever been entirely without them. No 
sooner is the religious idea conceived in the mind, than it, begins 
to be clothed in flesh and bones. But in the order "of thought 
these two stages are separable. Eor idols are not worshiped 
until the notion of some power which is not human, of which 
the nature is not understood, has arisen in the worshipers. 
Then a concrete expression is desired, and we have in poetical 
language the belief in God the Son. 

Last of all comes the belief— more properly an emotion than 
a belief — in the Holy Spirit. With this step a far higher grade 
of religious sentiment is reached. For God is now conceived, 
not only as creating or as governing the world without, but as 
entering into the mind of man to inspire his actions and influ- 
ence his heart. A relation which up to this point was merely ex- 
ternal—like that of the Creator to the created, or of superior to 
inferior — is rendered internal and intimate. The Holy Spirit 
not only speaks to our souls, but it speaks in them and through 
them. We receive, not the arbitrary command of an almiQ,hty 
potentate, but the inspiring force of a being who, while raising 
us above ourselves, is still a part, the best part, of ourselves. 
This indeed, in the deep imagination of the poet, makes all 
men noble. 

Yet not in such a creed as this, sublime as it is in compari- 
son with those that have gone before it, is the final resting- 
place of religious feeling. For every word or phrase in which 
we endeavor to give form to that feeling tends to lower and to 



NECESSITY OF THINKING AN UNKNOWN. 683 

corrupt it by the admixture of elements which are foreign to 
its genuine nature. To clothe this sentiment in language is 
itself an incarnation. For whether we speak of a Force, a Power, 
or a Spirit, of an ultimate Cause, or an all-pervading Essence; 
of the Absolute, or of the Keality beyond phenomena, these terms 
are but symbols of the Supreme, not the Supreme itself. 

"Name ist Schall und Rauch 
Umnebelnd Himmelsgluth.'* 

All that we can say is, that while we know nothing but that 
which either our senses perceive, or our minds understand, we 
feel that there is something more. Both the world without and 
the world within, both that which is perceived and that which 
perceives, require an origin beyond themselves. Both compel 
us to look^ as their common source, to a Being alike unknown 
and unknowable, whose nature is shrouded in a mystery no eye 
can pierce, and no intellect can fathom. 

This is the great truth which religion has presented to phi- 
losophy, and which philosophy, if she be truly (as her name 
implies) the love of wisdom, will not disdain to incorporate with 
the more recently discovered treasures belonging to her peculiar 
sphere. For it is not the part of wisdom to spurn as worthless 
even the childish lispings prompted by the profound idea that 
has inspired the faith of men, from that of the far past to that 
of the present hour, from that of the rudest African to that of 
the most enlightened European. Bather is it the part of wis- 
dom to excavate that idea from amidst the strange incrustations 
under which it is hidden, to understand its significance, and to 
recognize its value. Thus may we assign to it a fitting place 
within the limits of a system which does equal honor, and 
accords equal rights, to the scientific faculty and to the emo- 
tional instinct. 



CHAPTER IX. 

THE SUBJECTIVE ELEMENT. 

When speaking of the fundamental postulates involved in the 
religious idea, we pointed out that, besides the unknown cause 
of physical phenomena, " every religion assumes also that there 
is in human nature something equally hyperphysical with the 
object which it worships,' whether we call this something, soul, 
or mind, or spirit." Let us call it soul. And first let us exam- 
ine what it is that religion says of the soul, after which we may 
be in a position to consider what degree of truth, if any, is in- 
volved in its assertions. 

Now the great fact which presents itself to our notice in this 
inquiry is the broad line of demarcation wiiich religion has 
ever \ where drawn between the mental and corporeal functions 
of man, or in other words, between his soul and his body. 
Generally, it expresses this grand distinction by the assertion 
that the soul continues to live after the body is dissolved. This 
doctrine is very ancient and very wide-spread. A few illustra- 
tions of its prevalence are all that can be given here.* 

The rude people of Kamschatka, who had so little notion of 
a providence, believed in a subterranean life after death. The 
soul they thought was immortal, and the body would at some 
time rejoin it, when the two would live on together, much as 
they do here but under happier conditions. Their place of 
abode was to be under the earth, where there was another 
earth resembling ours. Some of them objected to being baptized, 
because they would then be compelled to meet their enemies 

* See much interesting evidence in Dulaure, "Histoire Abregee de 
differens Cultes." vol. 1. chs. xxiv.-xxvii. ; and a valuable discussion of 
the whole subject in Tyler's " Primitive Culture." 

684 



GENERAL BELIEF IN THE SOUL. 685 

the Bussians, instead of living among their own people under 
ground. Animals too were all of them to live again (Kam- 
schatka, p. 269-273). The Tartars, when visited by Carpin, had 
some notion that after death they would enjoy another life 
where they would perform the same actions as in this (Bergeron, 
vol. 1. art. 3, p. 32). "The most intelligent Greenlanders," 
writes a traveler among that people, "assert that the soul is a 
spiritual being quite different from the body and from all mat- 
ter, that requires no material nourishment, and while the body 
is decaying in the ground, lives after death and needs a nour- 
ishment that is not corporeal, but which they do not know " 
(H. G., p. 242). The American Indians firmly believed in the 
immortality of the soul. They thought it would keep the same 
tendencies after death as the living man had evinced; hence 
their custom — one that is widely spread — of burying the prop- 
erty of thS dead along with the body. The souls were obliged 
after death to take a long journey, at the end of which they 
arrived at their appropriate places of suffering and enjoyment. 
The Paradise of virtuous Indians consisted in the very definite 
pleasures of good hunting and fishing, eternal spring, abundance 
of everything with no work, and all the satisfactions of the 
senses (N. F., tome 3, p. 351-353). The Kafirs, as we have already 
seen, worship their ancestors, whose "Amadhlozi," or spirits, 
they believe to continue in existence after death. What they 
mean by Amadhlozi they explain with tolerable clearness by 
saying that they are identical with the shadow. These spirits 
are the true objects of a Kafir's worship, being supposed to 
possess great power over the affairs of their descendants and 
relatives for weal or woe. They are believed to reappear in the 
form of a certain species of harmless -snakes, and should a man 
observe such a snake on the grave of his deceased relation, he 
will say, "Oh, I have seen him to-day basking on the top of 
the grave" (K. S. A., pt. 2, p. 142.— K. N., pp. 161, 162). Similar 
reverence for the dead is shown in other parts of Africa. In 
his lecture on the Ashantees, Mr. Reade says that, "on the 
death of -a member of the household he is sometimes buried 
under the floor of the hut, in the belief that his spirit may 
occasionally join in the circle of the living. Food also is placed 
upon the grave, for they think that as the body of man con- 



686 THE SUBJECTIVE ELEMENT. 

tains an indwelling spirit, so there exists in the corruptible 
food an immaterial essence on which the ghost of the departed 
will feed." 

To come to races standing higher in the scale of civilization : 
the Peruvians had definite notions of a future state, with an 
upper world in which the good lived a quiet life, free from 
trouble, and a lower world in which the bad were punished by 
suffering all the miseries and troubles of this terrestrial condi- 
tion without intermission (0. E., b. 2, ch. vii). In China the 
utmost respect is paid to deceased progenitors, who are the 
objects of a regular cultus. India has had from early ages its 
highly-developed and subtle notions of the distinction of spirit 
from body, and the former is held to prolong its existence after 
its separation from the latter, both as disembodied in heavens 
or hells, and embodied in animals or other men. Some schools 
believed in the immortality of the soul ; others asserted that its 
final destination was extinction. Buddhism ranged itself with 
the latter opinion, while still maintaining the doctrine of 
metempsychosis, and of rewards and punishments both in this 
world and in numerous others to which spirits went in the 
course of their wanderings. Parsee souls hover about the 
grave a few days; then proceed upon a long journey. At its 
conclusion they pass over a narrow bridge, which the good 
traverse in safety to enter Paradise, while the bad fall over it 
and go into hell. In the Mussulman faith there are likewise 
but two destinies open to man — eternal happiness and eternal 
suffering. Among the Jews in the time of Christ two doctrines 
prevailed. Their ancient religion, while aware of the distinction 
between the spirit and the body, left the continued life of the 
former an, open question. Hence the Pharisees asserted, while 
the Sadducees denied, a future state. * Christ was in this respect 
a Pharisee of the Pharisees. He, however, like Mahomet, pro- 
vided only two abodes for the souls of men ; one .in heaven with 
his Father, the other in hell, where the fire was never quenched. 
It was felt, however, by the general Christian world that this 
sharp separation of all mankind into black and white, goats 
and sheep, was quite untenable. Hence the Catholic institution 
of Purgatory, which, whatever may be said against it, is a wise 
and liberal modification of the harsh doctrine of Christ, afford- 



FAITH IN THE SOUL'S IMMATERIALITY. 687 

ing a resource for the vast intermediate mass who are neither 
wholly virtuous nor wholly wicked, and providing? an agreeable 
exercise for that natural piety which prompts us to mingle the 
names of departed friends in our devotions, whether (as in 
Africa) to pray to them, or (as in Europe) to pray for them. 

From this brief review of the opinions of various races, it 
will be evident that some conception of a spirit in man as dis- 
tinguished from his body prevails and always has prevailed 
throughout the world. The special characteristic of this spirit- 
ual essence has always been held to be its immateriality. All 
religions conceive it as distinct from the body, most of them 
evincing this view by treating it as capable of independent 
existence. Many of them no doubt invest the spirit after death 
with a material form, but this is the clothing of the idea, not 
the idea itself. The form is received after the spirit has left its 
terrestrial body, and does not originally belong to it; as in the 
case of the serpents in South Africa, in which ancestral souls 
are thought to dwell. This immaterial nature is clearly ex- 
pressed—so far as such an abstract idea can find clear expres- 
sion from a rude people — by those Kafirs who compare the 
soul to a shadow. Nothing in the external world seems to have 
so purely subjective a character as shadows ; things which can- 
not be felt or handled, and which appear to have no independ- 
ent substance. 

Immateriality then is universally asserted (or attempted to 
be asserted) of the soul. This is of the very essence of the 
idea. No race believes that any portion of the body, or the 
body as a whole, is the same thing as mind or spirit. But im- 
mortality is not equally involved in the idea or inseparable from 
it. Notably the Buddhistic creed — held by a considerable frac- 
tion of mankind — teaches its votaries to look forward to utter 
extinction as the summiim bonum. True, the masses of average 
believers may^ not dwell upon the hope of Nirvana, but upon 
that of heaven.* But the authorized dogma of the Church is, 
that '* not enjoyment and not sorrow is our destined end " or 
goal, but the absolute rest, if so it may be called, of ceasing to 

* See some evidence bearing on this point in a paper by the author, enti- 
tled "Recent Publications on Buddhism." "Theological Review," July. 1872, 
p. 313. 



688 THE SUBJECTIVE ELEMENT. 

exist. And that this dogma was fervently accepted and thor- 
oughly believed in as a genuine *' gospel," the early literature 
of Buddhism amply proves. The Jews, a most religious people, 
had no settled hope of immortality provided by their creed, 
though the account of the creation of Adam shows how clearly 
they distinguished mind from matter. Warburton indeed infers 
the authenticity of the Hebrew Kevelation from the very fact 
of the absence of the doctrine of immortality; for no author 
of a popular religion, except God himself, could have afforded 
to dispense with so important an article. The more defective 
Judaism was, the more clearly it was divine. Nor were the 
classical nations of Greece and Eome at all more certain. With 
them also opinions differed — some, like Plato and his followers, 
asserting the immortality of the soul ; others, like Epicurus and 
his school, denying it. Cicero discusses it as an open question, 
though himself holding to the belief in future existence. His 
two possible alternatives are continued life in a condition of hap- 
piness, or utter cessation of life; either of which he accepts 
with equal calmness. The fear of hell did not torment him: 
"post mortem quidem sensus aut optandus aut nullus est" 
(Cato Major, xx. 74). Even if we are not to be immortal, as he 
hopes, nevertheless it is a happy thing for man to be extin- 
guished at the fitting season (Ibid., xxiii. 86). Less philosoph- 
ical people, however, were troubled, like Christians, with the 
notion of a future world of punishment; and Lucretius ad- 
dresses himself with all the ardor of a man proclaiming a 
beneficent gospel to the dissipation of this popular delusion: — 

*' Nil igitur mors est, ad nos neque pertinet hilum, 
Quandoquidem natura animi mortal is habetur." * 

Like other thinkers of his time, he distinguishes between the 
animus and a?iima — spirit and soul, and this three-fold division 
of the nature of man subsisted for a time in the language and 
ideas of Christians. But the essential point is that, whatever 
further subdivisions may have been made, all schools, ancient 
and modern, pagan and Christian, agreed in the fundamental 
distinction between the spiritual principle and the material 
instruments; between mind and matter, or soul and body. 

* De Rerum Nat., ill. 830. 



NO BRIDGE BETWEEN MIND AND MATTER. 689 

Such, then, is the universal voice of the religious instinct. 
Let us test the truth of this second postulate as we did that of 
the first: by endeavoring to do without it. Then we have mat- 
ter and motion of matter ; and the problem is : — Given these 
elements to find the resultant, mind. Motion is merely change of 
matter from place to place ; therefore the question is, whether in 
any kind of matter and any changes of matter we can discover 
mind. Consider the material world statically. As known to 
science (and we have no right to go beyond scientific observa- 
tion now), it contains certain properties perceptible to the 
senses, such as color, sound, taste, and smell, roughness, 
smoothness, and other tangible qualities, with extension and 
resistance, discoverable by the muscular sense and touch com- 
bined. Any further properties which a deeper analysis may dis- 
close will still belong to the domain of sensible perception, the 
senses being the instruments employed in their discovery. In 
which of these statical conditions of matter can mind be shown 
to be involved? Or what combination of statical conditions 
can produce mind as a part of the compound? Plainly any 
attempt to discover it in matter at rest would be an absurdity. 
Now consider the world dynamically. Here we have matter in 
motion, matter as the recipient and the transmitter of certain 
qualities of force. The mode of motion may be either molar 
(that of masses through space), or molecular (that of particles 
within a mass). In either case it is nothing but a change of 
position relatively to other objects. Now, how can change of 
position either be mind, or result in mind? Take the case of a 
planet whirling through space. Does this molar motion, con- 
sidered in any conceivable light, bring us one step nearer to 
mental phenomena? But all molar motion is of the same kind, 
and however completely analyzed, can lead to nothing but mat- 
ter changing its position in space. Is molecular motion in bet- 
ter case? When light is transmitted to the eye, the vibrations 
of the atmosphere, which form the objective side of this phe- 
nomenon, arriving at the optic nerve, cause corresponding vibra- 
tions in it, and these transmitted to the brain result in certain 
movements in its component particles. Which of all these 
vibrations and movements is sensation ? At what point does the 
physical fact of changes in molecules of matter pass into- the 



690 THE SUBJECTIVE ELEMENT. 

mental fact of changes in the quantity or quality of the light 
perceived ? Evidently no such point of transition can be found. 
And not only can it not be found, but the bare hypothesis of 
its existence is negatived by the fact that every physical move- 
ment produces an exactly equivalent amount of physical move- 
ment; so that there is nothing whatever in the resultant which 
is not accounted for in the antecedents, and nothing in the an- 
tecedents which has not its full effect in the resultant. There 
is thus no room left for the passage of the objective fact of 
molecular motion into the subjective fact of feeling. 

Although these considerations practically exhaust the ques- 
tion, yet another aspect of it may, for the sake of greater clear- 
ness, be briefly touched upon. If the doctrine of abiogenesis be 
accepted, it may be thought to afford some confirmation to the 
materialistic hypothesis that mind is but a function or property 
of matter. Do we not here see (it may be asked) life an'd sen- 
sation arising out of non-sentient materials ? And if a single 
living creature can thus arise, then, by the doctrine of evolution, 
all mind whatever is affiliated on matter. Such a conclusion, 
however, would be quite unwarranted by the facts observed. 
In abiogenesis unorganic matter is seen to pass into organic 
matter, and this is the whole of the process known to science. 
To assume that at some period in this process the material con- 
stituents of the newly-formed creature acquire the property of 
sensation is, to say the least, a very unscientific proceeding. 
Eor, throughout all their permutations, the component elements 
can (or could with improved instruments) be exactly observed, 
measured, and weighed; enabling us to say that so and so 
much, such and such of the inorganic elements has become so 
and so much, such and such of the organic compound. Now 
the factors of this compound do not {ex hypothesi) contain sen- 
sation. How, then, did the compound acquire it? Where is 
your warrant for suddenly introducing a consequent sensation 
— for which you have no assignable antecedent? 

Thus it is evident that between mind and matter, between 
spirit and body, between internal and external phenomena, 
there is a great gulf fixed, which no scientific or metaphysical 
cunning can succeed in bridging over. Matter is never sensa- 
tion,* and cannot be conceived as ever becoming sensation. The 



NO SPACE - RELATIONS IN CONSCIOUSNESS. 691 

chain of material phenomena, with its several series of causes 
and effects, is never broken; no physical cause is without its 
adequate physical effect, nor is any physical effect without a 
physical cause sufficient to produce it. The body is to the mind 
an external, material phenomena; closely connected indeed 
with mental states, and always more or less present to con- 
sciousness, but no part ol our true selves, no necessary element 
in our conception of what we actually are. Every portion of 
the bodily frame can be regarded by us as an outward object, 
wholly independent of ourselves, and logically, if not practi- 
cally, separable from ourselves. Many portions, such as the 
limbs, are actually so separable; and all of them are separable 
in thought. 

Still more impassable is this chasm in nature seen to be when 
we remark, that there are two all-pervading elements in which 
mind and matter have their being, and that the phenomena 
within each element have definite relations to other phenomena 
within the same element, but are incapable of being brought 
into a like relation with those of the other element. These two 
elements are Space and Time. Material particles are related to 
one another in space, and in space alone. They are nearer to, 
or more distant from, above or below, to the north, south, east, 
or west of, the other material particles with which we compare 
them. But they are not earlier or later than other particles. 
The existence of concrete objects may be earlier or later than 
that of other concrete objects; but when we talk of their exist- 
ence as earlier or later, we are talking of their relation to con- 
sciousness, not of their relation to one another. It is the total 
framed and classified by the mind that has a relation in time 
to some other similar total; each total, analyzed into its ulti- 
mate atoms, has only relations in space to the other total, like- 
wise analyzed into its ultimate atoms. Contrariwise, mental 
objects, or states of consciousness, are related to one another 
in time, and in time alone. States of consciousness can be com- 
pared as earlier or later, simultaneous or successive. They have 
no space-relations either to one another or to the material world. 
It is common indeed to consider the mind as located in the 
body, but this is incorrect. For absolutely nothing is meant by 
saying that anything is in a given place except that it stands 



692 THE SUBJECTIVE ELEMENT. 

in given space-relations to surrounding objects. My body is in 
a place because it is upon the ground, in the air, below the 
clouds, amid a certain environment which constitutes the coun- 
try and locality of that country which it is in. But my mind 
has no surrounding objects of this nature at all. The thought, 
say, of a distant friend can by no possibility be imagined as 
enclosed within the grey matter of the brain, just to the right 
of a nerve A, and in contact with a ganglion B. This thought, 
and its accompanying emotion, could not be found by any viv- 
isection (if such were possible), though its correlative physical 
condition might. Hence the mind is not in the body, but is an 
independent entity whose phenomena, successive in time, run 
parallel to but never intermingle with the phenomena of body, 
extended in space. 

From the view here stated of the irremoveable distinction 
between mind and matter an important corollary will be' seen 
to follow.* No physical movement (it has been shown) can be 
conceived as passing into a state of consciousness, for each 
physical movement begets further physical movement, and 
while it is fully spent in its physical consequent is itself fully 
accounted for by its physical antecedent. The converse of this 
doctrine must therefore be equally true. That is to say, no 
state of consciousness can pass into a physical movement, for, 
if it could, this movement would have another than a physical 
antecedent. In other w^ords, the mind can in no way influence 
the actions of the body. It cannot stand in a casual relation 
to any physical fact whatever. Hence the doctrine of the will 
(not only of free will but of any will) falls to the ground. For 
the current conception of a will supposes that a chain of mate- 
rial events passes at some point in its course into a state of 
consciousness, and that this state of consciousness again origin- 
ates a chain of material events. Say that I hear some one call 
my name, and go to the window to ascertain who it is. Then 
the common explanation would be, not only that the atmo- 

* The doctrine here stated is not my own invention. It was first pub- 
lished (so far as I know) by Mr. Shadworth Hodgson in his "Theory of 
Practice," vol. i. p. 416-436, § 57; but I am indebted for my acquaintance 
with it to Mr. D. A. Spalding, who discovered it independently, and an- 
nounced it in the Examiner, December 30, 1871; September 6, 1873; March 
14, 1874; and in Nature, January 8, 1874. 



MATERIALISM UNPHILOSOPHIO. 693 

spheric undulations, which are the material correlative of sound 
passing into the brain by the auditory nerves, produced the 
sensation of hearing, whicli is true, but that this sensation in 
its turn produced those exertions of the limbs which result in 
my arrival at the window, which is erroneous. According to 
the view here adopted, the atmospheric undulations stand in a 
direct relation of causation to the affection of the auditory 
nerve, and this affection, in a direct relation of causation, to 
the resulting movements. The states of consciousness in like 
manner stand in a direct relation of simple sequence to each 
other; the sensation of sitting in a room being followed by that 
of hearing my name, this by the thought that there is some one 
outside calling me, this by the sensation of motion through 
space, and this last by that of seeing the person from whom 
the call emanated standing in the expected place. But at no 
point can the one train of events be converted into the other. 
And while the train of external sequences does influence the 
train of internal sequences, this latter has no corresponding in- 
fluence upon the former. For this would imply that at somer 
period in the succession physical movements lost themselves in 
consciousness; ceased to be physical movements, and became 
something of an alien nature. It would imply further that 
such movements originated de novo from something of an alien 
nature having no calculable or measurable relation to them. 
Either of which implications would constitute an exception to 
the Persistence of Force. 

Man is, in short, as the adherents of this opinion have called 
him, a " conscious automaton." He does not will his own 
actions, nor do external manifestations, whether those of tlie 
unconscious or the conscious orders of existence, influence his 
will. But along with the set of objective facts there is always 
present a parallel set of subjective facts, and the subjective 
facts stand in an invariable relation to the objective facts. So 
that where the material circumstances, both those of the sur- 
rounding world and those of the body, are of a given character, 
the non-material circumstanc \ the state of mind, is also of a 
given and i)recisely corresponding character. Variations in the 
one imply variations in the other; feelings in the one change or 
remain fixed with changes or fixity in the other. 



694 THE SUBJECTIVE ELEMENT. 

Could the friends of dogmatic religion know the things 
belonging to their peace, they would bestow upon this doctrine 
their most earnest support; for it deals the death-blow to that 
semi-scientific materialism which derives a certain countenance 
from the discoveries of the day, and which is — second to relig- 
ious dogmas themselves— the most dangerous enemy of the 
spiritual conception of the universe and of mankind. Not that 
in lifting a voice against materialistic views, I mean for a 
moment to lend a helping hand to the vulgar and irreverent 
outcry which is so often raised against matter itself as some- 
thing gross and degraded, and deserving only of a contemptu- 
ous tolerance at our hands. I should have thought that the 
endless beauty of the material universe, and the varied enjoy- 
ments to be derived from its contemplation, as also the profound 
instruction to be obtained by its study, would have sufficed to 
give it a higher place in the estimation of religious minds. 
With such opposition to materialism as this I can have no ves- 
tige of sympathy. The form of materialism which I contend 
against, not as irreligious but as unphilosophic, is that which 
confounds"tlie two orders of phenomena— physical and mental— 
under one idea, that of matter. Matter is supposed in this phi- 
losophy to be the parent of mind. A bridge is sought to be 
thrown across the great gulf which is fixed between us and the 
world without. But the moment we seek to walk over this 
imaginary bridge it crashes beneath our feet, and we are hurled 
into the abyss below. 

Between that which feels, thinks, perceives, and reasons on 
the one hand, and that which is felt, thought about, perceived, 
and reasoned on, there is no community of nature. The dis- 
tinction between these two. though it need not be ultimate in 
the order of things, is absolutely ultimate in the order of 
thought. In their own undiscoverable nature these two mani- 
festations may be one; in their relation to us they are for ever 
two. 



CHAPTER X. 

THE RELATION OF THE OBJECTIVE TO THE SUBJECTIVE ELEMENT, 

One final postulate has been found to be involved in all relig- 
ion, namely, that between the human essence spoken of as the 
subjective element, and tbe power spoken of as the objective 
element, " there is held to be a singular correspondence, their 
relationship finding its concrete expression in religious worship 
on the one side and theological dogma on the other." Kitual, 
consecration of things and places, ordination of priests, omens, 
inspiration of prophets and of books, all of them imply the sup- 
posed possibility of such a relation. All qf them, however, from 
their contradictory and variable character, prove that they are 
but imperfect efforts to find utterance for the emotion which 
underlies them all. But that this emotion is incapable of an 
explanation consistent with rational belief is not therefore to be 
taken for granted. 

Consider, first, that in order to be aware of the existence of 
the ultimate and unknown power, we must possess some faculty 
in our constitution by which that power is felt. It must, so to 
speak, come in contact with us at some point in our nature. 

Now, no sensible perception can lead us to this conception as 
a generalization. The whole universe, regarded merely as a 
series of presentations to the senses, contains not a single object 
which can possibly suggest it. Nor can any combination of such 
presentations be shown to include within them any such idea. 
Neither can the existence of such a power be inferred by the 
exercise of the reasoning faculty. There is no analogical case 
from which the inference can be drawn. When we reason we 
proceed from something known to something unknown, and con- 
clude that the latter, resembling the former in one or more of 



696 RELATION OF OBJECTIVE TO SUBJECTIVE. 

its qualities, will resemble it also in the quality yet to be estab- 
lished. In exploring, for instance, some deserted spot, we find 
traces of a building. Now, previous experience has taught us 
that such buildings are only found where human builders have 
made them. We conclude, therefore, that we have stumbled 
upon a work of human hands. Suppose we explore further and 
find the remains of the building very extensive. We now draw 
the further inference that it was inhabited by a wealthy man, 
because we knoAV that only the wealthy can afford to live in 
magnificent houses. But if prolonged excavation lead to the 
discovery of long rows of buildings, of various sizes and having 
streets between them, we confidently assert that we have 
unearthed a ruined citj ; for we are aware th^ no single man, 
however rich or powerful, is likely to have built so much. Of 
these three inferences, the first only is, strictly speaking, infalli- 
bly true. But the others are rendered by familiar analogies so 
highly probable as to be practically certain. Now let the thing 
sought be, not some single cause of a single phenomenon, or 
the various causes of various phenomena, but the ultimate 
cause of all phenomena whatever,— where is the corresponding 
case on which we can proceed to argue ? Plainly there is none. 
There is no otJier world or system to which we can appeal and 
say, "Those stars and those planets were made by a God, 
therefore our own sun and its planets must have been made by 
a God also." Every single argument we can frame to establish 
the existence of deity assumes in its major premiss the very 
thing to be proved. It takes for granted that phenomenal 
objects require a cause, and were not the idea of this necessity 
already in the mind it could not take one single step. For if it 
be contended, say, that the world could not exist without a 
Creator, we have but to ask, " Why not ? " and our adversary 
can proceed no further with his argument. All he can ever do 
is to appeal to a sentiment in us corresponding to the sentiment 
of which he himself is conscious. 

Thus it appears that neither direct observation, nor reason- 
ing, which is generalized observation, supplies the material for 
an induction as to the existence of an Unknowable Cause. Yet 
this idea is so persistent in the human race as to resist every 
effort to do without it. In one form or another it invariably 



BEALI8TI0 AND IDEALISTIC HYPOTHESIS. 697 

creeps iii. There is but one possible explanation of such a fact: 
namely, that it is one of those primary constituents of our 
nature which are incapable of proof because they are them- 
selves the foundations on which proof must be erected. We 
cannot demonstrate a single lav/ of nature ^Yithout supposing a 
world external to ourselves. And we cannot suppose a world 
external to ourselves without referring explicitly or implic- 
itly to an unknown entity manifested in that world. The fac- 
ulty by which this truth is known mast be considered as a 
kind of internal sense. It is a direct perception. And precisely 
as objects of direct perception by the senses appear widely dis- 
similar at different distances, to different men, and to the same 
man at different times, so the object of the religious emotion is 
variously conceived in different places and ages, by different 
men, and by the same man at different times. Moreover, as the 
religious sentiment in the mind of man perceives its object, the 
Ultimate Being, so tliat Being is conceivecT as making iiself 
known to the mind of man through the religious sentiment. A 
reciprocal relation is thus established ; the Unknowable causing 
a peculiar intuition, the mind of man receiving it. And this is the 
grain of fact at the foundation of the numerous statements of 
religious men, that they iiave felc themselves inspired by God, 
that he speaks to them and speaks through them, that they en- 
ter into communion with him in prayer, and obey his influence 
during their lives. We need not discard such feelings as idle 
delusions. In form they are fanciful and erroneous; in sub- 
stance they are genuine and true. And in a higher sense the 
adherent of the universal religion may himself admit their 
title to a place in his nature. To use the words of a great phi- 
losopher, *' he, like every other man, may consider himself as 
one of the myriad agencies through whom works the Unknown 
Cause;" "he too nay feel that when the Unknown Cause pro- 
duces in him a certain belief, he is thereby authorized to pro- 
fess and act out that belief" (Spencer's "Eirst Principles," 2d 
ed., § 34, p. 123). 

But we may go still deeper in our examination of the nature 
of the relation between the Ultimate Being and the mind of 
man. To do so we must briefly recur to the philosophical quee- 
tions touched upon in the eighth chapter of this Book, We 



698 RELATION OF OBJECTIVE TO SUBJECTIVE. 

there discussed four possible modes of viewing the great prob- 
lem presented by the existence of sensible objects: Common 
and Metaphysical Eealism, Moderate and Complete Idealism. 
Let us briefly reconsider these several systems to discover 
whether any of them affords a satisfactory solution. 

Common Eealism is excluded by the consideration that it 
treats the qualities of external objects as existing in those 
objects and not in the percipient subject. It requires but little 
reflection to prove that such qualities are modes of conscious- 
ness, not modes of absolute being. This defect is surmounted 
in Metaphysical Eealism, which, however, is liable to the fatal 
objection, that it takes for granted an abstract substance in 
material things, which substance is like the Unknowable, utterly 
inconceivable, yet is not the Unknowable, and is incapable of 
accounting for any of the manifestations belonging to the men- 
tal order. So that we should have a superfluous entity brought 
in to form the substance of matter, of which entity neither our 
senses, nor our reason, nor our emotions, give us any informa- '■ 
tion. For matter, in the abstract, is not the matter perceived 
by the senses; nor is it the object of the religious sentiment; 
nor is its existence capable of any kind of proof save that 
which consists in establishing the necessity of some kind of 
Permanent Eeality below phenomena. And this Eeality is not 
only the substratum of material, but of all phenomena what- 
soever. Moderate Idealism is in no better case. For in denying 
all true existence except to living creatures it fails utterly to 
give any rational account of that order of events which is uni- 
versally and instinctively referred to external causes, nor can it 
find any possible origin for the living creatures in whose reality 
it believes. Extreme Idealism recognizes no problem to be 
dealt with, and can therefore offer no solution. 

Each of these systems, however, while false as a whole, con- 
tains a partial truth. Extreme Idealism is the outcome of the 
ordinary, unreflecting Eealism; for if the Common Eealist be 
convinced that appearances do not imply existence, and if he 
believe in no existence but appearances, the ground is cut from 
under his feet, and he remains standing upon nothing. He 
knows only phenomena, a»d the phenomena are mere ideas of 
his own mind. The truth common to these two extremes is 



THE UNKNOWABLE ALL - COMPREHENDING. 699 

that so emphatically asserted by Berkeley, that the esse of 
material objects is percipi; that we exhaust the physical phe- 
nomenon when we describe its apparent qualities, and need not 
introduce besides these a material substance to which those 
qualities are related as its accidents. They are not the acci- 
deii-ts, but the actual thing, in so far as it is material. Meta- 
physical Realism and moderate Idealism are united in the 
recognition of the truth that the phenomena are not the ulti- 
mate realities, and that the qualities of bodies, when analyzed, 
are subjective, not objective; forms of the human mind, and 
not independent, external existences. 

Hence these various philosophies, like the various religions 
of which they are in some sort metaphysical parallels, must be 
considered as preparing the way for the admission of that all- 
embracing truth which is the common ground of metaphysics 
and religion. 

Examine a simple objective phenomenon. Then you find 
thai you can separate it into all its component qualities: its 
color, taste, smell, extension, and so forth; and that after all 
these qualities have been taken into account nothing of the 
object remains save the vague feeling of an unknown cause by 
which the whole phenomenon is produced. All the apparent 
qualities, without exception, are resolvable into modes of co^-^ 
sciousness, but the whole object is not so resolvable. For tlie | 
question still remains. How did we come to have those modes 
of consciousness? Thus the analysis of the commonest mate-; 
rial object leads us straight to an unknowable origin of known ^ 
manifestations. And each particular phenomenon brings us to 
the same result. But are we to assume a si)ecial Unknowable 
for each special object? A little consideration will show that 
the division and subdivisfon we make of the objects of sensible 
perception resembles their apparent qualities in being purely 
subjective, and indeed more than subjective, arbitrary. For I 
consider an object as one or many, according to the point«of 
view from which I regard it. The glass which I hold in my 
hand is at this moment one ; but the next mom^ent it is shivered 
into a thousand atoms, and each of these atoms is of complex 
character, and resolvable into still simpler parts. The planet 
we inhabit is, for the astronomer, one object; for the geologist 



700 RELATION OF OBJECTIVE TO SUBJEOTIVE. 

a number of distinct rocks ; for the botanist it is composed of 
mineral and vegetable constituents, and of these, the latter, 
which alone engage his attention, are numerous and various; 
for the chemist it consists of an infinite multitude of element- 
ary atoms variously combined. Hence unity and multiplicity 
are mere modes of subjective reflection; not ultimate m-odes of 
objective being. And the Unknowable cannot, strictly speaking, 
be regarded as either one or many, since each alike implies lim- 
itation and separation from something else. Eather is it all- 
comprehending; the Universal Foundation upon which unity 
and multiplicity alike are built. 

Material things, then, are analyzable into modes of conscious- 
ness with an unknown cause to which these modes are due. 
But what is consciousness itself? Like matter, it has its sub- 
jective and its objective aspect. The subjective aspect consists 
of its various phenomenal conditions; the sensations which we 
ascribe to outward objects as their producing causes, and the 
emotions, passions, thoughts, and feelings which we conceive as 
of internal origin. The objective aspect consists of the unknown 
essence itself which experiences these various states ; of the very 
self which is supposed to persist through all its changes of 
form; of the actual being which is the ultimate Eeality of our 
mental lives. The existence of this ultimate Ego is known as 
an immediate fact of consciousness, and cannot be called in 
question without impugning the direct assurance which every 
one feels of his own being as apart from his particular and 
transient feelings. Nobody believes that he is the several sen- 
sations and emotions which he experiences in life ; he believes 
that he has them. And if the existence of the Unknowable 
underlying material manifestations is perceived by a direct, 
indubitable inference, the existence of the Unknowable underly- 
ing mental manifestations is perceived without an inference at 
all by an intuition from which there is no appeal. For no one 
ca» even attempt to reason with me about this conviction with- 
out resting his argument upon facts, and inferences from facts, 
which are in themselves less certain than this primary cer- 
tainty which he is seeking to overthrow. 

Existence, then, is known to us immediately in our own case; 
mediately in every other —consequently, the only conception we 



THE UNKNOWABLE INCLUDES CONSCIOUSNESS. 701 

can frame of existence is derived from ourselves. Hence when 
we say that anything exists, we can only mean one of two 
things: either that it exists as a mode of human consciousness, 
as in the case of material things ; or that it exists per se, and 
is the very substance of consciousness itself. And the former of 

these modes of existence is altogether dependent upon a con- 

• 

scious subject. A material object is a congeries of material 
qualities, none of which can be conceived at all except in rela- 
tion to some percipient subject. Take away the subject, and 
color, extension, solidity, sound, smell, and every other quality, 
vanish into nothing. The existence of these qualities, and 
hence the existence of matter itself in its phenomenal character, 
is relative and secondary. There remains therefore only the 
second of these two modes of existence as absolute and primaryr 
The substance of consciousness, then, is the one reality which is 
known to exist; and in no other form is existence in its purity 
conceivable by us. For if we attempt to conceive a something 
as existent which is neither object nor subject, neither that 
which is felt nor that which feels, neither that which is thought 
nor that which thinks, we must inevitably fail. There is no 
tertium quid which is neither mind nor matter of which we can 
frame the most remote conception. We may, if we please, im- 
agine the existence of such a tertium quid, but the hypothesis 
is altogether fanciful, and would have nothing in science, noth- 
ing in the construction of the human mind, to render it even 
plausible. Indeed, it would be making an illegitimate use of the 
word ''existence" to apply it in such a sense. Existence to us 
means consciousness, and never can mean anything else. We 
cannot by any effort conceive a universe previous to the origin 
of life in which there was no consciousness ; for the moment we 
attempt to conceive it, we import our own consciousness into it. 
We think of ourselves as seeing or feeling it. The effort, there- 
fore, to frame an idea of any existing thing without including 
consciousness in the idea is self-defeating, and when we predi- 
cate Existence of the Unknown Cause, we predicate its kinship 
to that ultimate substance of the mind from which alone oui 
conception of absolute existence is derived. 

Here, then, we have a second and more intimate relationship 
between the objective and the subjective elements in the relig- 



702 EELATION OF OBJECTIVE TO SUBJECTIVE. 

ious emotion. They are found to be of kindred nature ; or, to 
speak with stricter caution, it is found that we cannot think of 
them but as thus akin to one anotlier. We must ever bear in 
mind, however, that our thoughts upon such a subject as this 
can bo no more tlian partial approximations to the truth; ten- 
tative explorations in a dark region of the mind rather than 
accurate measurements of the ground. Thus, in the present 
instance, we have spoken of the Unknowable as more or less 
akin to the mind of man ; yet we cannot think of the Unknow- 
able as resembling the fleeting states which are all that we 
know by direct observation of the constitution of the mind. It 
is not the passing and variable modes, but the fixed and ^^ 
unchangeable substratum on which those modes are conceived 
to be impressed, which the Unknowable must be held to resem- 
ble. And this substratum itself is an absolute mystery. We can 
in no way picture it to ourselves without its modes, which nev- 
ertheless we cannot regard as appertaining to its ultimate being. - 
One further consideration will establish a yet closer relationship 
than that of likeness. The Unknown Keality, which is the 
source of all phenomena v/hatsoever, mental and physical, must 
of necessity include within itself that mode of existence which is 
manifested in consciousness; "for otherwise, we must imagine 
yet an tlier power as the originator of conscious life, and we 
should then have two unknown entities, still requiring a liigher 
entity behind them both, to effect that entire harmony which 
actually subsists between them. The Unknowable is, therefore, 
the hidden source from which both the great streams of being, 
internal and external, take their rise. Since, then, our minds 
themselves originate in that Universal Source, since it compre- 
hends every form of existence within itself, we stand to it in the 
relation of parts to a whole, in which and by which those parts 
subsist. There is thus not only likeness but identity of nature 
between ourselves and our unknown Origin. And it is literally 
true that in it " we live, and" move, and have our being." 

From the summit to which we have at length attained, we 
may survey the ground we have already traversed, and com- 
prehend, now that they lie below us, a few of the intricacies 
which we met with on our way. The apparent puzzle of 



CONSCIOUS CAUSE AND PHYSICAL EFFECT. 703 

automatism, for i^xample, may be resolved into a more compre- 
hensive law. It was shown, at the conclusion of the preceding 
chapter, that a train of phj^sical events could in no way impinge 
upon, or pass over into, a train of mental events, nor a state of 
consciousness be converted into physical movements. But it 
was hinted that, while the distinction between the two great 
series of manifestations, those of mind and those of matter, 
was ultimate in the order of thought, it need not be ultimate 
in the order of things. Of this suggested possibility we have 
now found the confiimation ; for we have seen that material 
phenomena, analyzed to their lowest terms, resolve themselves 
into forms of consciousness, and forms of consciousness, ana- 
lyzed in their turn, prove to be the varied modes of an un- 
tnown subject ; and this unknown subject has its roots in the 
-qltimate Being in which both these great divisions of the phe- 
«\omenal universe find their foundation and their origin. The 
distinction, therefore, between the mental and the material 
train belongs to these trains in their character of phenomena 
alone. They are distinguished in the human mind, not in the 
order of nature. Thus, if we recur to the illustration used in 
explaining automatism, we pointed out that in the circumstance 
of hearing a call and going to the window, two series might 
be thus distinguished: 1. The material series, consisting of 
atmospheric undulations, affections of the nerves and matter of 
the brain, moveinents of the body; 2. The mental series, con- 
sisting of the sensations of sitting still, and hearing of the 
thought of a person, of the sensations of motion, and seeing 
the person. Now, if we take the trouble to observe the terms 
of which the first series is composed, we shall see that they 
also express states of consciousness, though states of a differ- 
ent kind from those contained in the terms of the second series. 
Undulations, nervous affections, movements, and so forth, are 
only intelligible by us as modifications of our consciousness. 
To conceive in any degree the atmospheric pertubations which 
are the physical correlatives of sound, we must imagine them 
as somehow felt or perceived — for instance, as a faint breeze. 
To conceive the cerebral changes implied in hearing, we must 
imagine ourselves as dissecting and examining the interior of 
the brain. In other words, the external train of events to which 



704 EELATION OF OBJECTIVE TO SUBJECTIVE. 

consciousness runs ever parallel can only be represented in 
thought by translating it into terms of consciousness ; and the 
absolute harmony of both these trains, the fact that while 
states of consciousness do not originate the movements of our 
bodies, they yet bear so unvarying a relation to them as to be 
mistaken for their causes, finds its solution in the reflection 
that, when we look below the appearances to the reality per- 
vading both, it is the same Universal Being which is manifested 
in each alike. 

Hence, too, the sense of independent power to produce phys- 
ical effects in accordance with mental conceptions, which forms 
the great obstacle to the general admission of the doctrine of 
human automatism. Eeason as we may, we still feel that we 
are reservoirs of force which we give out in the shape of mate- 
rial movement whenever we please and as we please, ^nd if 
the doctrine of the . Persistence of Force appears, by showing 
that every physical consequent has a purely physical antece- 
dent, to contradict this feeling, we naturally give the preference 
to the feeling over the doctrine. Bat since the Persistence of 
Force is itself no less firmly seated in consciousness than the 
sense of independent power — sii).Qe all nature would be a chaos 
without the Persistence of Force — it is the part of true philos- 
ophy to give its due to each. And this may be done by admit- 
ting the particle of truth contained in the belief that the human 
will influences the external world. We are indeed reservoirs of 
force. But it is not our own peculiar force that is exerted 
through us ; it is the Universal Force, which is evinced no less 
in the actions of men than in the movements of inanimate 
nature. And since those actions are in constant unison with 
their wishes, there is not, and cannot be, the sense of constraint 
which is usually opposed to voluntary performance. Thus, to 
take a simple illustration, the necessities of our physical jcon- 
stitution absolutely compel us to support ourselves by food; yet 
no man feels that in eating his meals he is acting under exter- 
nal compulsion. 

It would be a strange exception indeed to the universal prev- 
alence of unvarying law, if human beings were permitted to 
exert independent influence upon the order of events. Not in 
so slovenly a manner has the work of nature been performed. 



EVOLUTION - THEORY AND CONSCIOUSNESS. 705 

We are no more free to disturb the harmony and beauty of 
the universe than are the stars in their courses or the planets 
in their orbits. Our courses and orbits are no less fixed than 
theirs, and it is but the imperfection of our knowledge, if they 
have not been, and cannot yet be discovered. But it would be 
a lamentable blot upon a universe, where all things are fixed 
by a Power *' in whom there is no variableness nor shadow of 
turning,'* were there permitted to exist a race of creatures who 
were a law unto themselves. 

Again, the relation now established between the human mind 
and the ultimate Source both of mind and matter, serves to 
throw light upon that dark spot in the hypothesis of evolution 
— the origin of consciousness. For while in this hypothesis 
there is a continual progression, of which each step, is the nat- 
ural consequence of another, from the gaseous to the solid con- 
dition of our system, from inorganic to organic substances, from 
the humblest organization to the most complex, there is abso- 
lutely no traceable gradation from the absence to the presence 
of conscious life. No cunning contrivance of science can derive 
sensation from non-sentient materials, for the difference between 
the two is not a difference in degree of development, but in 
kind. There is a radical unlikeness between the two, and it is 
unphilosdphic, as well as unscientific, to disguise the fact that 
a mere process of material evolution can never lead from the 
one to the other. "The moment of arising of consciousness," 
says Mr. Shadworth Hodgson, "is the most important break in 
the world of phenomena or nature taken as a whole; the phe- 
nomena above and the phenomena below it can never be re- 
duced completely into each other; there is a certain heteroge- 
neity between them. But this is not the only instance of such a 
heterogeneity" (Hodgson's "Theory of Practice," vol. i. p. 340). 
I venture to say that it is the only instance, and that there is 
nothing else in nature which can properly be compared with it. 
The instances of similar heterogeneity which Mr. Hodgson gives 
appear to me less carefully considered than might have been 
expected from so eareful a writer. That between Time and 
Space, which is his first case, is involved in that between mind 
and matter, and is only another expression of it (see supra, p. 
447); while "curves and straight lines," and "physical and 



706 RELATION OF OBJECTIVE TO SUBJECTIVE. 

vital forces," are not truly heterogeneous at all, unless under 
"vital forces." we include mental effort, and so again illustrate 
the primary unlikeness by a case included under it. But the 
last example is remarkable. "Until Mr. Darwin propounded 
his law of natural selection, it was supposed also [that there 
was heterogeneity] between species of living organisms in phys-. 
iology." Now it is the great triumph of the evolutional system 
to have rid us of this unintelligible break, and to have shown 
that the whole of the material universe, inorganic and organic, 
is the result of the unchangeable operation of laws which are 
no less active now than they have ever been. In other words, 
evolution dispenses with the necessity of supposing the exist- 
ence, at some point in the history of the planet, of a special 
law for the production of species brought into operation ad 
hoc. 

But the general principles which apply to the origin of 
org-anic products must apply also to the origin of conscious life. 
This also must be figured as an evolution. This also must take 
place without the aid of a special law brought into operation 
ad hoc. Like the evolution of material products, it can only be 
conceived as taking place from a preexisting fund, containing 
potentially the whole of the effects which are afterwards found 
in actual existence. 

Let us test this by trying to conceive the process in other 
ways. Consciousness might be supposed to arise in two ways: 
by special creation, and by uncaused origin, from nothing. Both 
possibilities are in absolute contradiction to the fundamental 
principles of evolution. Creation by a superior power is a 
hypothesis standing on a level with that of the creation of, man 
out of the dust of the earth. To realize it in thought at all we 
must suppose the very thing intended to be denied, namely, 
the material of mind already existing in the universe, as that 
of body existed — in the earth. Otherwise, we should be obliged 
to admit the unthinkable hypothesis of the origin of something 
from nothing. This latter difficulty presses with its full force 
upon the second supposition. Mind would thereby be repre- 
sented as suddenly springing into being without any imaginable 
antecedent. For no material antecedent can produce it without 
an exception to the Persistence of Force, which requires a 



CONSCIOUS BEING IMPLIES CAUSE. 707 

material cousequent. And it cannot arise ^Yithout any antece- 
dent but by a similar exception. 

Neither creation nor destruction can in fact be represented 
as occurring in nature. We cannot conceive a new being arising 
out of nothing, or passing into nothing. As the development 
of the physical universe takes place by the change, composition, 
decomposition, and re-composition of preexisting constituents, 
so it must be with the development of mind. -We cannot sup- 
pose the origin of sensation, its advance to more varied and 
complex kinds, through emotions, passions, and reasonings to 
the most subtle feelings and the profoundest thoughts, without 
believing that all of these have their source in the Ultimate 
Reality of nature, which comprehends not these only, but every 
further perfection of which we may yet be capable in ages to 
come. 

Here, then, is the solution of the difficulty v^hich was shown 
(p. G90) to bobet the theory of abiogenesis ; a theory which, if 
ultimately accepted by science, as I believe it will be, will for 
the first time bring perfect unity into our conceptions of the 
development of the world we live in. While science will thus 
sliow that there is no impassable break between inorganic and 
organic forms of matter, philosophy will confirm it by showing, 
that there is no real distinction between the universal life which 
is manifested in the (so-called) inanim*ate forces and constitu- 
ents of our system and the fragmentary life which comes to 
light in aniihated creatures. There is heterogeneity nowhere. 
There are no breaks in nature. There are no unimaginable 
Idaps in her unbroken course. 

From the point of view now reached we can understand also 
—so far as understanding is possible in such a case — the 
apparent riddle of our knowledge of the existence of the Un- 
knowable. We can explain the universal sentiment of religious 
minds that there is some direct relation between them and the 
object of their worship. The sense of an intuitional perception 
of that object, the sense of undefinable similarity thereto, the 
sense of inspiration and of guidance thereby, are included under 
and rendered intelligible by the actual identity in their ultimate 
natures of the subject and the object of religious feeling. And 
the incomprehensibility of the latter is shown to have an obvi- 



708 RELATION TO THE SUBJECTIVE ELEMENT. 

ous reason. For the part cannot comprehend the whole of 
which it is a part. It can bat feel that there is a whole, in 
some mysterious way related to itself. But what that whole is, 
the conditions of its existence render it impossible that it should 
even guess. 

Imagine the whole of the atmosphere divided into two great 
currents: a hot current continually ascending, and a cold cur- 
rent continually descending. And let the hot current represent 
the stream of conscious life, the cold current the stream of 
material things. To complete the simile, conceive that there is 
a sharp boundary between the two currents, so that atoms of 
air can never cross to and fro ; while yet the conscious atoms 
in the hot current are aware of the existence of the unconscious 
atoms in the cold one. Now if the atoms or particles in the 
conscious current should be gifted with senses in proportion to 
their size, they will, see and feel an infinitely minute portion 
both of the ascending current in which they themselves are 
placed, and of the descending current they are passing by. But 
of the whole of the atmosphere of which they are themselves 
fragmentary portions they will be able to form no conception 
whatever. Its existence they will be aware of, for it will be 
needed to explain their own. But of its nature they will have 
no idea, except that in some undeflnable way it is like them- 
selves. Nor will they be able to form any picture of the cause 
which is continually carrying them upwards, and forcing their 
homologues in the opposite current downwards. While, if we 
suppose these opposite movements to represent the elements of 
Time and Space, they will be conscious of themselves only in 
terms of movement upwards, and of the unconscious particles 
in terms of movement downwards. They will suppose these two 
movements to be of the very essence of hot and cold particles, 
and will be able to conceive them only under these terms. 
Suppose, lastly, that at a certain point in their progress the 
hot particles become cold and pass into the opposing current, 
losing their individual, particular life, then their fellow-parti- 
cles in the hot current will lose sight of them at that point, 
and they will be merged in the general stream of being to 
emerge again in their turn into the stream of console ua being. 

Imperfect as this simile is, and as all such similes must be. 



THE ROOT -ERROR OF THE CREEDS. tog 

it serves in some faint measure to express the relation of the 
mind of man to its mysterious Source. And it serves also to 
illustrate the leading characteristics of Keligion and Theology, 
or Faith and Belief, the function of the first having ever been 
to conceive the existence of that relation, and the function of 
the second to misconceive its character. Thus there runs 
through the whole course of religious history a pervading error 
and a general truth. In all its special manifestations these two 
have been mingled confusedly together, and the manifold forms 
of error have generally obscured from sight the single form of 
truth. 

The relation held by Faith to Belief, by the true elements to 
the false, in special creeds, may be thus expressed : That the 
creeds have sought to individualize, and thus to limi-t that which 
is essentially general and unlimited. Thus worship, in it^urest 
character a mere communing of the mind with its unknown 
Source, has been narrowed to the presentation of petitions to a 
personal deity. Particular places and peculiar objects have 
been selected as evincing, in some exceptional maimer, the pres- 
ence of the infinite Being which pervades all places and things 
alike. Certain men have been regarded as the exclusive organs 
of the ultimate Truth; certain books, as its authorized expres- 
sions; wherens the several races of men in their different modes 
of life, and in the diverse products of their art and their cul- 
ture, are all in their variety, and even in their conflict, inspired 
workers in the hands of that Truth which is manifested com- 
pletely in none, partially in all. 

And as it has been with the special objects upon which Theol- 
ogy has fixed its gaze, so it has been with the general object 
which underlies them all. This, too, has been individualized, lim- 
ited and defined. It has been forgotten that we are but forms of 
that which we are seeking to bring within the grasp of our rea- 
son, and cannot therefore see around it, above it, and below it. 
But this truth, which Theology is ever forgetting, Keligion must 
ever proclaim. The proclamation of this truth is the title-deed 
of its acceptance by mankind. Without this, it would sink into 
the dishonored subject of incessant wranglings and profitless 
dispute. When it begins to define the Infinite, it ceases, in the 
purer sense of the word, to be Keligion, and can only command 



"10 EELA.TION TO THE SUBJECTIVE ELEMENT. 

the assent of reasonable beings in so far as its assertions com- 
ply with the rigorous methods of logical demonstration. But 
this aondition is in fact impossible of fulfillment, for the nature 
of 'the object concerning which we reason, renders the exact 
terms of logical propositions misleading and inadequate. The 
Unknowable Keality does not admit of definition, comprehen- 
sion, or description. How should we, mere fragments of that 
Reality, define, comprehend, or describe the Infinite Being" 
wherein we have taken our rise, and^ whereto we must return ? 

Thus is Eeligion analj^zed, explained and justified. Its varied 
forms have been shown to be unessential and temporary; its 
uniform substance to be essential and permanent. Belief has 
melted away under the comparative method; Faith has remained 
behind. From two sides, however, objections may be raised to 
the results of this analysis. Those who admit no ultimate resi- 
duum of truth in the religious sentiment at all, may hold that 
I have done it too much honor in conceding so much; while 
those who adhere to some more positive theology than is 
admitted here, will think that I have left scarcely anything 
worth the having in conceding so little. 

To the first class of objectors I may perhaps be permitted to 
point out the extreme improbability of the presence in human 
nature of a universally-felt emotion without a corresponding 
object. Even if they themselves do not realize in their own 
minds the force of that emotion they will at least not deny its 
historical manifestations. They will scarcely question that it 
has been in all ages known to history as an inspiring force, and 
often an overmastering passion. They will believe the evidence 
• of those who affirm that they are conscious of that emotion 
now, and cannot attribute it to anything but the kind of Cause 
which religion postulates. The actual presence of the emotion 
they will not deny, though the explanation attempted of its 
origin they will. But those who make the rather startling 
assertion that a deep-seated and wide-spread emotion is abso- 
lutely without any object resembling that which it imagines to 
be its source, are bound to give some tenable account of the 
genesis of that emotion. How did it come into being at all ? 
How having come into being, did it continue and extend ? How 



VALIDITY OF THE RELIGIOUS SENTIMENT. 7H 

did it come to mistake a subjective illusion for an objective 
reality ? 

These are questions pressing- for an answer from tiiose who 
ask us to believe that one of our strongest feelings exists merely 
to deceive. But it will be found, I believe, that all explanations 
tending to show that this emotion is illusory in its nature 
assume the very unreality they seek to prove. Should it, for 
example, be contended that human beings, conscious of a force 
in their own bodies, extend the conception of this force to a 
superhuman being, which extension is iilegiiimate, it is assumed, 
not proved, in such an argument as this, that the force manifested 
in the universe at large is not in some way akin to that mani- 
fested in human beings. Again, should it be urged that man, 
being aware of design in his own works, fancies a like design 
in the works of nature, it is a mere assumption that this attri- 
bution of the ideas of his own mind to a mind greater than his 
is an unwarrantable process. The argument from design may 
be, and in my opinion is, open to other grave objections; but 
its mere presence cannot be used as explaining the manner in 
which the religious emotion has come to exist. Eather is it the 
religious emotion which has found expression in the argument 
from design. The same criticism applies to all accounts of this 
sentiment which aim at finding an origin for it sufficient to 
explain its presence without admitting its truth. They all of 
them assume the very point at issue. 

But the real difficulty that is felt about religion lies deeper 
than in the mere belief that a given emotion may be deceptive. 
It lies in the doubt whether a mere emotion can be taken in 
evidence of the presence in nature of any object at all. Emotions 
are by their very nature vague, and this is of all perhaps the 
vaguest. Nor are emotions vague only; they are inexpressible 
in precise language, and even when we express them as clearly 
as we can, they remain unintelligible to those who have not 
felt them. Now this general and unspecific character of emo- 
tions renders it hard for those who are wanting in any given 
emotion to understand its intensity in others, and even fully to 
believe in their statements about it. Were religion a case of 
sensible perception they would have no such doubt. Color-blind 
persons do not question the faculty of distinguishing colors in 



712 EELATION TO THE SUBJECTIVE ELEMENT. 

others. But while the sharp definitions of these senses compel 
us to believe in the existence of their objects, the compara- 
tively hazy outlines drawn by the emotions leave us at least a 
physical possibility of disputing the existence of theirs. 

Yet the cases are in their natures identical. We see a table, 
and because we see it we infer the existence of a real thing 
external to ourselves. . Ttie presence of the sensations is con- 
ceived to be an adequate warrant for asserting the presence of 
their cause. Precisely in the same way, we feel the Unknow- 
able Being, and because we feel it we infer the existence of a 
real object both external to ourselves and within ourselves. 
The presence of the emotion is conceived to be an adequate 
warrant for asserting the presence of its cause. Undoubtedly, 
the supposed object of the sensations and the supposed object 
of the emotion might be both of them illusory. This is con- 
ceivable in logic, though not in fact. But there can be no 
reason for maintaining the unreality of the emotional, and the 
reality of the sensible object. Existence is believed in both 
instances on the strength of an immediate, intuitional infer- 
ence. The mental processes are exactly parallel. And if it be 
contended that sensible perception carries with it a stronger 
warrant for our belief in the existence of its objects than inter- 
nal feeling, the reasons for this contention must be exhibited 
before we can be asked to accept it; otherwise, it will again 
turn out to be a pure assumption, constituting, not a reason for 
the rejection of religion by those who now accept it, but a 
mere explanation of the conduct of those who do not. 

In fact, however, the denial of the truth of religion is no 
less emotional then its affirmation. It is not denied because 
those who disbelieve in it have anything to produce against it, 
but because the inner sense which results in religion is either 
absent in them, or too faint to produce its usual consequences. 
For this of course they are not to blame, and nothing can be 
more irrational than to charge them with moral delinquency or 
culpable blindne'ss. If the Unknown Cause is not perceptible 
to them, tliat surely is not a deficiency to be laid to their 
charge. But when they quit the emotional stronghold wherein 
they are safe to speak of those to whom that Unknown Cause 
is perceptible as the victims of delusion, these latter may con- 



COUNTER -PROOF TO BE LED. 713 

fidently meet them on the field which they themselves have 
chosen. 

First, then, it is at least a rather startling supposition that 
their fellow creatures have always been, and are still, the vic- 
tims of a universal delusion, from which they alone enjoy the 
privilege of exemption. Presumption, at all events, is against 
a man who asserts that everybody but himself sees wrongly. 
He may be the only person whose eyes have not deceived him, 
but we should require him to give the strongest proof of so 
extraordinary an assertion. And in all cases which are in the 
least degree similar, this condition is complied with without 
the smallest hesitation. There are, so far as I am aware, no 
instances of proved universal delusions, save those arismg from 
the misleading suggestions of the senses. That the earth is a 
flat surface, that the sun moves round it, that the sun and 
moon are larger than the stars, that the blue sky begins at a 
fixed place, are inferences which the uninstructed observer can- 
not fail to draw from the most obvious appearances. But those 
who have combated these errors have not done so by merely 
telling the world at large that it was mistaken ; they have 
pointed out the phenomena from which the erroneous inferences 
were drawn, and have shown at the same time that other 
phenomena, no less evident to the senses than these, were 
inconsistent with the explanation given. They have then sub- 
stituted an explanation which accounted for all the phenomena 
alike, both the more obvious phenomena and the less so. Pre- 
cisely similar is the method of procedure in history and phi- 
losophy, though the methods of proof in these sciences are not 
equally rigorous. Great historical delusions — such as the 
Popish plot — are put to rest by showing the misinterpreted 
facts out of which they have grown, exposing the misinterpre- 
tation, and substituting true interpretation. Imperfect psycho- 
logical analysis, say of an emotion, is superseded by showing 
from what facts this analysis has been obtained, and what other 
facts it fails to account for. 

Observe, then, that in all these cases the appeal is made from 
the first impressions of the mistaken person to his own impres- 
sions on further examination; not to those of another. Con- 
siderations are laid before him which it is supposed will cause 



7U BELATION TO THE SUBJECTIVE ELEMENT^ 

him to change his mind, and in all that class of cases where 
strict demonstration is possible actually do so. To a man who 
believes the earth to be a flat extended surface we point out 
the fact that the top of a ship's mast is the first part of it to 
appear, and that this and other kindred phenomena imply 
sphericity. Oar appeal is from the senses to the senses better 
informed; not from another man's senses to our own. And we 
justly assume that were all the world in possession of the facts 
we have before us, all the world would be of our opinion. 

What, then, is the conclusion from these analogies ? It 
surely is, that those who would deny the reality of the object 
of religious emotion must show from what appearances, mis- 
understood, the belief in that object has arisen, and must point 
out other appearances leading to other emotions which are in 
conflict with it. As the astronomer appeals from sensible per- 
ception to sensible perception, so they must appeal from 'emo- 
tion to emotion. But it must not be their own emotions to 
which they go as forming a standard for ours. They can 
demand no hearing at all until they attempt to influence the 
emotions of those whom they address. 

Generality of belief need not, for the purposes of this argu- 
ment, be taken as even a presumption of truth. We can grant 
our adversaries this advantage which, in the parallel cases of 
the illusions of the senses, was neither asked nor given. But 
we must ask them in return to concede to us that, if the gen- 
erality of a belief entitles it to no weight in philosophic' esti- 
mation, the singularity of a belief entitles it to none either. All 
mankind may be deluded : well and good : a fortiori a few indi- 
viduals among mankind maybe deluded too. Grant that the 
human faculties at large are subject to error and deception, it 
follows from this that the faculties of individuals lie under the 
same disability. No word can be said as to the general liability 
to talse beliefs, which does not carry with it the liability to 
false beliefs of the very persons who are seeking to convince us. 

By whom, in fact, are we asked to admit, in the interests of 
their peculiar theory, the prevalence of a universal deception, 
and a deception embracing in its grasp not only the ignorant 
multitude, but men of science, thinkers and philosophers of the 
very highest altitude of culture ? By whom is it that the great 



• THE RELIGIOUS POSITION NOT DISPEOVED. 715 

mass of humankind is charged with baseless thoughts, illusory- 
emotions, and untenable ideas? By those who, in thus denying 
the capacity of the whole human race to perceive the truth, 
nevertheless maintain their own capacity to see over the heads of 
their fellow men so far as to assert that they are all the victims 
of an error. .By those who, while bidding us distrust the strong- 
est feelings, nevertheless require us to trust them so far as to 
banish, at their bidding, those feelings from our hearts. Not 
from our reason to our more instructed reason do they appeal, 
only from, our reason to their own. But I deny the competence 
oi the tribunal ; and I maintain that until not merely disbelief, 
but disproof, of the position of Eeligion can be offered, Keligion 
must remain in possession of the field. 

Yet there is one mistake which, as it may tend to obscure the 
issue, it will be desirable to clear away. It is often contended, 
oftener perhaps tacitly a'^sumed, that the burden of proof must 
rest on those who in any case maintain the affirmative side of 
a belief, while the negative on its side requires no proof, but 
can simply claim reception until the affirmative is established. 
Now this principle is true, where the negative is simply a sus- 
pension of judgment; the mere non-acceptance .of a fact 
asserted, without a counter-assertion of its. opposite. To under- 
stand the true application of the rule we must distinguish 
between what I will term substantial affirmations or negations, 
and affirmations or negations in form. Thus, to assert that A. 
B. is six feet tall, is a substantial affirmation. Out of many pos- 
sible alternatives it selects one, and postulates that one as true, 
while all the rest it discards as false. Since, however, there are 
numerous possibilities besides this one with regard to A. B.'s 
height — since he may be either taller or shorter by various 
degrees — the negative, in the absence of all knowledge on the 
subject, is inherently more probable, for it covers a larger 
ground. It is a substantial negation. That is, it affirms noth- 
ing at all, but simply questions the fact affirmed, leaving the 
field open to countless other substantial affirmations. So, in 
law, it is the prosecution which is required to prove its case; 
for the prosecution affirms that -this man was at a given place 
at a given time and did the criminal action. The opposite 
hypothesis of this covers innumerable alternatives : not this man 



716 EELATION TO THE SUBJECTIVE ELEMENT.- 

but another, may have been at that place, or he may have been 
there and not done the action charged, or some other man may 
have done it, or the crime may have not been committed at all, 
and so forth. These are cases of substantial affirmations; as- 
serting one alone out of many conceivable possibilities, and there- 
fore needing proof. And their opposites are substantial nega- 
tions; questioning only the one fact affirmed, and even with 
reference to that merely maintaining that in the absence of 
proof there is an inherent probability in favor of the negative 
side. 

Widely different is the case before us. Here the affirmation 
and negation are affirmative and negative in form alone. The 
assertions, "An Unknowable Being exists," and "An Unknow- 
able Being does not exist," are not opposed to one another as 
the affirmative and the negative sides were opposed in the pre- 
vious cases. The latter proposition does not cover a number of 
possible alternatives whereof the former selects and affirms a 
single one. Both propositions are true and substantial affirma- 
tions. Both assert a supposed actual fact. And the latter does 
not, as the previous negative propositions did, leave the judg- 
ment in simple suspense. It requires assent to a given doc- 
trine. That the one cast is in a negative form is the mere acci- 
dent of expression, and without in any way affecting their sub- 
stance, their positions in this respect may be reversed. Thus, 
we may say for the first, "The universe cannot exist without an 
Unknowable Being;" and for the second, " The univei'se can 
exist without an Unknowable Being." There are not here a 
multitude of alternatives, but two only, and of these each side 
affirms one. Each proposition is equally the assertion of a pos- 
itive belief. Thus, the reason which, in general, causes the 
greater antecedent probability of a denial as against a positive 
assertion, in no way applies to the denial of the fundamental 
postulate of Eeligion. The statement that there is nobody in a 
certain room is not in itself more probable than the statement 
that there is somebody. And the proposition : " all men are not 
mortal," though negative in form, is truly as affirmative as the 
counter-proposition: *' all men are mortal." 

But this argument, inasmuch as it places the denial of all 
truth in the religious emotion on a level with its affirmation. 



THE ALTERNATIVE IN DEBATE. 717 

fails to do justice to the real strength of the case. There are 
not here two contending beliefs, of which the one is as proba- 
ble as the other. In conceding so much to the skeptical party 
we have given them a far greater advantage than they are en- 
titled to demand. Generality of belief is, in the absence of evi- 
dence or argument to the contrary, a presumption of truth; for, 
unless its origin from some kind of fallacy can be shown, its 
generality is in itself a proof that it persists in virtue of the 
general laws of mind which forbid the separation of its subject 
from its predicate. And it is not only that we have here a gen- 
eral belief, or, more correctly speaking, a general emotion, but 
we have categories in the human mind which are not filled up 
or capable of being filled up by the objective element in the 
religious idea. There is, for example, the category of Cause; 
Nature presents us not with Cause, but with causes ; and these 
causes are mere antecedents, physical causation in general being 
nothing whatever but invariable antecedents and invariable 
sequence. But this analysis of the facts of nature by no means 
satisfies the conception of causation which is rooted in the 
human mini. That conception imperiously demands a cause 
which is not a mere antecedent, but a Power. Without that, 
the idea would remain as a blank form, having no reality to fill 
it. And how do we come to be in the firm possession of this 
idea if there be nothing in nature corresponding to it ? From 
what phenomena could it be derived? Akin to our notion of 
Cause is our notion of Force. When the scientific man speaks 
of a Force, he merely means an unknown something which 
effects certain movements. And Science cannot possibly dis- 
pense with the metaphysical idea of Force. Yet Force is not 
only unknowable ; but it is the Unknowable manifested in cer- 
tain modes. Again, therefore, I ask, whence do we derive ine- 
radicable feeling of the manifestation of Force, if that feeling 
be a mere illusion? Similar remarks apply to other categories 
which, like these, have no objects in actual existence in the con- 
formity of the religious sentiment to truth be denied. Such is 
the category of Keality. Imagination cannot picture the world 
save as containing, though in its essence unknown to us, some 
real and permanent being. We know it only as a compound of 
phenomena, all of them fleeting, variable, and unsubstantial. 



718 EELATIO^ TO THE SUBJEOTIYE ELEMENT. 

There is nothing in the phenomena which can satisfy our men- 
tal demand for absolute being. As being transient, and as being 
relative, the, phenomena in fact are nothing. But our intellect- 
ual, our emotional, and our moral natures demand the ro 
ovrooi ov — that which really is, as th'e necessary completion of 
rd (paivo/isa — that which only appears. And it is precisely 
the unshakeable belief in an unchangeable, though unknowable 
Eeality ; an everlasting Truth amid shifting forms, a Substance 
among shadows, whit;h forms the universal foundation of relig- 
ious faith. 

A ship that has been driven from her intended course is 
drifting, with a crew who have no clear knowledge of her where- 
abouts, upon an unexplored ocean. Suddenly her captain ex- 
claims that he sees land in the distance. The mate, however, 
summoned to verify the captain's observation, fancies that the 
black speck on the horizon is not land, but a large vessel. ' The 
sailors and passengers take part, some with the one, some with 
the other; while many of them form opinions of their own not 
agreeing with that of either, one maintaining it to be a whale, 
another a dark cloud, a third something else, and so forth. 
Minor differences abound. Those who take it to be land are at 
issue as to its being a plain or a mountain, those who think it 
a vessel cannot agree as to the description of the craft. One 
solitary passenger sees nothing at all. Instead of drawing what 
would appear to be the most obvious conclusion, that he is 
either more shortsighted or less apt to discover distant objects 
than the rest, he infers that his vision alone is right, and that 
of all the others, captain, passengers, and crew, defective and 
misleading. Oblivious of the fact that the mere failure to per- 
ceive an object is no proof of its non-existence, he persists in 
asserting not only that the speck seen in the distance, being so 
variously described, probably does not resemble any of the 
ideas formed of it on board the ship, but that there is no speck 
at all. Even the fact that the crews of many other ships, pass- 
ing in this. direction, perceive the same dim outline on the hori- 
zon, does not shake his conviction that it is a mere '* idol of 
the tribe." Such is the procedure of those who deny the reality 
of the object of the religious idea. Instead of drawing from the 
diversity of creeds the legitimate inference that the Being of 



AIM OF THE PRECEDING ANALYSIS. 719 

whom they severally speak is of unknown nature, they conclude, 
from the mere absence of the idea of that Being in their indi- 
vidual consciousness, that its very existence is a dream. 

Lastly, a few words, and a few only, must be said in reply 
to those who will think that the cenception of the Unknowable 
resulting from our analysis is too vague and shadowy to form 
the fitting foundation for religious feeling. They will probably 
object that the Being whom that feeling requires is not an in- 
conceivable Cause or Substance of the Universe, but a Personal 
God ; not an undefined something which we can barely imagine, 
but a definite Some one whom we can adore and love. There 
is nothing, they will say, in such a conception as this either to 
satisfy the affections or to impress the moral sentiments. And 
both purposes were fulfilled by the Christian ideal of a loving 
Father and a righteous Judge. 

To these objections I would reply, first of all, that I have 
simply attempted to analyze religion as I found it, neither 
omitting what was of the essence of the religious idei, nor in- 
serting what was not. If this analysis is in any respect defect- 
ive, that is a matter for criticism and discussion. But if it has 
been corr'ectly performed— of which I frankly admit there is 
abundant room for doubt— then I am not responsible for not 
finding in the universal elements of religion that which is not 
contained within them. The expression found for the ultimate 
truths must embrace within it, if possible, the crude notions of 
deity formed by the savage, and the highly abstract ideal formed 
by the most eminent thinkers of modern times. Even then, if 
I myself held the doctrines of the personality and the father- 
hood of God, I could not have required from others any admis- 
sion of these views of mine as universal ingredients in religious 
faith. The utmost I could have done would have been to tack 
them on as supplementary developments of the idea of the 
ultimate Being. And thus it is still open to any one who wishes 
it to do. Difficult as it is to reconcile the ideas of Love and 
Justice with unlimited Power and absolute Existence, yet if there 
are some who find it possible to accomplish the reconciliation, 
it may be well for them so to do.* 

* 3ee an ingenious attempt to maintain the personality, along with Uie 



7:0 EELATION TO THE SUBJECTIVE ELEMENT. 

Undoubtedly, however, all such efforts do appear to me mere 
hankerings after an Incarnation of that idea which, by its very 
nature, does not admit of representation by incarnate forms, 
even though those forms be moral perfections. And I would 
reply, secondly, to the above objection, that, while we lose 
something by giving up the definite personality of God, we gain 
something also. If we part with the image of a loving Father, 
we part also with that of a stern monarch and an implacable 
judge. If we can no longer indulge in the contemplation of per- 
fect virtue, embodied in an actual Person, we are free from the 
problem that has perplexed theologians of every age : how to 
reconcile the undoubted evil in the world with the omnipotence 
of that Person. I know that there are some who think it pos- 
sible to retain the gentler features in the popular conception of 
deity, while dropping all that is harsh and repulsive. To them 
the idea of God is as free from terror as the idea of ther Un- 
knowable, and the first of these gains is therefore no gain to 
them. But the problem of the existence of evil presses perhaps 
with greater severity upon them than upon "any other class of 
theologians. To suppose that God could not prevent the pres- 
ence of wickedness, or could not prevent it without some greater 
calamity, is to deny his omnipotence; to suppose that he could, 
and did not, is to question his benevolence. But even admitting 
the improvement made by purging from the character of God 
all its severity, its vindictiveness, and its tendency to excessive 
punishment, the fact remains that the conception thus attained 
is not that of the popular creed at all, but that of a few en- 
lightened thinkers. And it is with the former, not with the lat- 
ter, that the doctrine of the Unknowable must be compared, in 
order fairly to estimate its advantages or disadvantages in rela- 
tion to the current belief in a personal God. 

Moreover, it must be borne in mind that the dim figure we 
have shadowed out of an inconceivable and all-embracing ulti- 
mate Existence, if widely different from the more ordinary the- 
ological embodiments of the religious idea, is altogether in har- 
mony with many of its expressions by the most devoutly relig- 

moral qualities of God, in Mr. Shadworth Hodgson's "Theory of Practice," 
vol. 1. r. 305 ff. 



AGNOSTICISM AKIN TO MYSTICISM. 721 

ious minds. If religion has always had a tendency to run to 
seed in dogma, it has also always had a tendency to revert to 
its fundamental mysticism. The very best and highest minds 
have continually evinced this tendency to mj^sticism, and it has 
mixed itself up with the logical definitions of others who did 
not rise to so exalted a level. So that the examination of the 
writings of religious men will continually disclose that profound 
impression of the utterly incomprehensible and mysterious 
nature of the Supreme Being which is now, in its complete de- 
velopment in the form of Agnosticism, stigmatized as incom- 
patible with genuine religious faith. 

That tendency to be deeply sensible of the impossibility of 
conceiving the Absolute which Eeligion has thus evinced, it is 
the result of Science to strengthen and to increase. Science 
shows the imperfection of all the concrete expressions which 
have been found for the Unknowable. It proves that we can- 
not think of the Unknowable as entering in any peculiar sense 
into special objects in nature, dwelling in special places, or 
speaking through special channels. Miraculous phenomena, 
which were supposed to constitute the peculiar sphere of its 
manifestations, are thrown by Science completely out of the 
account. But all phenomena whatsoever are shown to manifest 
the Unknowable. Thus, while scientific inquiry tends to dimin- 
ish the intensity of religious ideas, it tends to widen their 
extension. They do not any longer cling to partial symbols. 
They do not attach themselves with the same fervor to indi- 
vidual embodiments. But, in becoming more abstract, they 
become also more pervading. Religion is found everywhere and 
in everything. All nature is the utterance of the idea. And, as 
it gains in extension while losing in intensity in reference to 
the external world, it goes through a similar process in relation 
to human life. No longer a force seizing on given moments of 
our existence, at one moment inspiring devotional observances, 
at the next forgotten in the pleasures or the business of the 
day; at one time filling men with the zeal of martyrs or cru- 
saders, at another leaving them to the unrestrained indulgence 
of gross injustice or revolting cruelty, it becomes a calm, all- 
pervading sentiment, shown (if it be shown at all) in the gen- 
eral beauty and spirituality of the character, not in the gt^tQ I 



722 • BELATION TO THE SUBJEOTIYE ELEMENT. 

exercises of a rigorous piety, or in tlie passionate outbursts of 
an enthusiastic fervor. 

But these considerations would lead me on to a subject 
wliich I had once hoped to treat within the boundaries of the 
present volume, but which I am now compelled, owing to the 
enlargement of the scheme, to postpone to a future time. That 
subject is the relation of religion to ethics. It may have 
struck some readers as an omission that I have said nothing of 
religion as a force inspiring moral conduct, which is the prin- 
cipal aspect under which it is regarded by some competent 
authorities. But the omission has been altogether intentional. 
It would take me a long time to explain what in my judgment 
has been the actual influence of religion upon morals in the 
past, and what is likely to be its influence in the future. Mean- 
while I merely note the fact that this analysis professes to be 
complete in its own kind ; that I have endeavored to probe the 
religious sentiment to the bottom, and to discover all that it 
contains. Thus, if religion be not only an emotion, but a 
moral force, it must acquire this character in virtue of the rela- 
tion of its emotional elements to human character, not in virtue 
of the presence of ethical elements actually belonging to the 
religious emotion, and comprehended under it by the same inde- 
feasible title as the sense of the Unknowable itself. 

At present, however, I can attempt no answer to the objec- 
tion which will no doubt be urged, that so abstract and cold a 
faith as that expounded here can afford no satisfaction to the 
moral sentiments. Indeed I must to a certain extent admit the 
reality of the loss which the adoption of this faith entails. 
There is consolation no doubt in the thought of a Heavenly 
Father who loves us ; there is strength in the idea that he sees 
and helps us in our continual combat against evil without and 
evil within; there is happiness in the hope that he will assign 
us in another life an infinite reward for all the endurances of 
this. Above all, there is comfort in the reflection that when we 
are parted by death we are not parted for ever; that our love 
for those whom we have cherished on earth is no temporary 
bond, to be broken ere long in bitterness and despair, but a 
possession never to be lost again, a union of souls interrupted 
for a little while by the separation of the body, only to be again 



THE LOSS A GAIN. 723 

renewed in far greater perfection and carried on into far higher 
joys than can be even imagined here. All this is beautiful and 
full of fascination: why should we deny it? Candor compels 
us to admit that in giving it up with the other illusions of our 
younger days we are resigning a balm for the wounded spirit 
for which it would be hard to find an equivalent in all the 
repertories in Science, and in all the treasures of philosophy. 
Yet it must be borne in mind that every step from a lower to 
a higher creed involves a precisely similar loss. How much 
more beautiful was nature (as Schiller has shown us in his poem 
on the gods of Greece) when every fountain, tree and river had 
its presiding genius, when the Sun was driven by a divine 
charioteer, when the deities of Olympus intervened in the affairs 
of men to prevent injustice and to maintain the right. How 
cold and lifeless, nay, how profoundly irreligious, would our 
modern cpnception of the earth and the solar system have 
appeared to the worshiper of Poseidon and Apollon. And if the 
loss of the Christian as compared to the Pagan is thus great, 
how great also is the loss of the enlightened Protestant as com- 
pared to the ignorant Catholic peasant. What comfort must be 
found in the immediate intervention of the Virgin in answer to 
prayer, what security afforded by the protection of the local 
saint. Or again, how great the i^leasure of contributing by our 
piety to the release of a friend from purgatorial torment, and 
of knowing that our friends will do us the same kindly service. 
Even without contrasting such broad and conspicuous divis- 
ions of Christianity as these, we shall find enough of the same 
kind of difference within the limits of Protestantism itself. 
-What mere intellectual conviction of a future state can vie with 
tlie consoling certainty offered by the Spiritualistic belief, that 
those whom we have lost on earth still hover around us in our 
daily course; sometimes even appear to us in bodily form, and 
converse with us in human speech. No mere hope of meeting 
them' again can for a moment equal the delight of seeing their 
well-known shapes and hearing the:-r familiar tones. Hence the 
Spiritualist has undoubtedly a source of comfort in his faith 
which more rational creeds can offer nothing to supply. But 
who that does not share it can envy them so baseless a convic- 
tion, so illusory a joy? 



724 BELATION TO THE SUBJECTIVE ELEMENT. 

It is, in fact, the very condition of progress that, as we ad- 
vance in knowledge and in culture, we give up something on 
the road. But it is also a condition that we do not feel the 
need of that which we have lost. Not only as we become men 
do we put away childish things, but we can no longer realize in 
thought the enjoyment which those childish things brought 
with them. Other interests, new occupations, deeper affections 
take the place of the interests, .the occupations, and the affec- 
tions of our early years. So too should it be in religion. Men 
have dwelt upon the love of God because they could not satisfy 
the craving of nature for the love of their fellow men. They 
have looked forward to eternal happiness in a future life because 
they could not find temporary happiness in this. It is these 
reflections which point out the way in which the void left by 
the removal of the religious affections should hereafter be sup- 
plied. The effort of those who cannot turn for consolation to a 
friend in heaven should be to strengthen the bonds of friend- 
ship on earth, to widen the range of human sympathy and to 
increase its depth. We should seek that love in one another 
which we have hitherto been required to seek in God. Above 
all, we should sweep away those barriers of convention and 
fancied propriety which continually hinder the free expression 
of affection, and force us to turn from the restrictions of the 
world to One towards whom there need be no irksome conform- 
ity to artificial regulation, and in speaking to whom we are 
under no shadow of reserve. 

Were we thus permitted to find in our fellow creatures that 
sympathy which so many mourners, so many sufferers, so many 
lonely hearts, have been compelled to find only in the idea of their 
heavenly Father, I hesitate not to say that the consolations of the 
new religion would far surpass in their strength and their perfec- 
tion all those that were offered by the old. Towards such increas- 
ing and such deepening of the sympathies of humanity I believe 
that we are continually tending even now. Meantime, while we 
are still far from the promise(i land, the adherents of the uni- 
versal religion are not without a happiness of their own. Their 
faitji is, at least a faith of perfect peace. Untroubled by the 
storms of controversy, in which so many others are tossed about, 
they can welcome all men as brothers in faith, for all of them, 



DEEPER CONSOLATION. 725 

even the most hostile, contribute to supply the stones of the 
broad foundation upon which their philosophy is built. Those 
therefore who contend against them, be it even with vehemence 
and passion, yield them involuntary help in bringing the mate- 
rials upon wliich their judgment is formed. No man can truly 
oppose their religion, for he who seems to be hostile to it is 
himself but one of the notes struck by the Unknowable Cause, 
which so plays upon the vast instrument of humanity as to 
bring harmony out of jangling sounds, and to produce the uni- 
versal chords of truth from the individual discords of error. 
Scientific discoveries and philosophic inquiries, so fatal to other 
creeds, touch not the universal religion. They who accept it 
can but desire the increase of knowledge, for even though new 
facts and deeper reasoning should overthrow something of what 
they have hitherto believed and taught, they will rejoice that 
their mistakes should be corrected, and their imperfections 
brought to light. They desire but the Truth, and the Truth has 
made them free. And as in their thoughts they can wish noth- 
ing so much as to know and to believe that which is true, so 
in their lives they will express the serenity which that desire will 
inevitably bring. They are not pained or troubled because other 
men see not as they see. They have no vain hope of a unity of 
thought which the very conditions of our being do not permit. 
They aim not at conquering the minds of men; far rather 
would they stimulate and help them to discover a higher Truth 
than they themselves have been permitted to know. And as 
their action will thus be inspired with hope of contributing 
their mite to the treasury of human knowledge, well-being, and 
moral good, so their death will be the expression of that peace- 
ful faith which has sustained their lives. Even though torn 
away when, in their own judgment, they have still mucli to do, 
they will not repine at the necessity of leaving it undone, even 
though they are well aware that their names, which might have 
been illustrious in the annals of our race, will now be buried in 
oblivion. For the disappearance of a single life is but a ripple 
on the ocean of humanity, and humanity feels it not. Hence 
they will meet their end *' sustained and soothed by an unfal- 
tering trust," 



726 RELATION TO THE SUBJECTIVE ELEMENT. 

**Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch 
About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams." 

But the opposite fate, sometimes still more terrible, that of 
continuing to live when the joys of life are gone, and its purest 
happiness is turned into the bitterest pain, will be accepted too. 
Thus they will be willing, if need be, to renaain in a world where 
their labor is not yet ended, even though that labor be wrought 
through suffering, despondency, and sorrow; willing also, if 
need be, to meet the universal lot — even though it strike them 
in the midst of prosperity, happiness, and hope; bowing in 
either case to the verdict of fate with unmurmuring resignation 
and fearless calm. 



THE END. 



INDEX 



Abhidharma-Pitaka, its metaphy- 
sics, 473-476 

Abiogenesis, the theory of, 690; its 
destined functions, 702 

Abraham, a Hanyf, 195; story of, 
545-546 

Acts, the book of, its value, 604; 
review of, 604-617 

Aditi, the godesses, 437 

Africa, burial rites in, 430; divin- 
ation in, 114; ordeals in, 119 

Africans, western, sacrifice among, 
42; drink-offerings among, 47 

Agag hewn in pieces, 598 

Age, a golden, traditions of, 538, 539 

Agni, the god, 430 

Agnosticism allied to mysticism, ii. 
489 

Ahab, his troubles, 598 

Ahuna-Vairya, the, 503, 504 

Ahura-Mazda, andZarathustra, 182, 
183; the god of the Parsees, 185; 
ancient worship of, 486, 487; 
praise of, 487,488; rank and char- 
acter, 489; address to, 489, 490; 
worship of, 490-492; hre and wa- 
ter given by, 493; questioned by 
Zaratiiustra,497-504; things which 
please and things which displease, 
497, 498; prescribes for medical 
training, 499; the same as Or- 
mazd, 505; throughout the god 
of the Parsees, 508; creates the 
world, 535 

Aischylos, his conception of the 
commercial relation between gods 
and men, 38 

Akaba, the vow of the first and 
second, 188 

Ali, sign at his birth, 226 

Amatongo, sacrifice to the, 40 

Amuzulus, sacrifice among the. 



47; sneezing as an omen among, 

111 
Amos, his prophecy and history, 

61; conduct towards Amaziah, 

573 
Anagamin, the, 478, 479 (note) _ 
Anafysis, ultimate metaphysical, 

464 
Ananda and the Matangi girl, 285; 

and Buddha, 134, 136 
Ananias and his wile, story of, 607 
Aucestors, worship of, in Fiji and 

among the Kafirs, 650, 651; in 

Peiu,651. 
Angekoks, the, consecration of, 

100, 101 
Apocalypse, the, its author, 634; 

its style, 634; compared with 

the "Pilgrim's Progress," 634; 

its visions, 635, 636 
Apollo, worship of, .38; his sense 

of gratitude appealed to, 38; 

oracle of the Clarian, 127 
Aranyakas, the, 127 
Arhats, the, rank of, 444, 445 
Asceticism, various degrees of, 89; 

in Mexico and Peru, 90-92; 

rules of Chinese, 461 
Ashem-Vohu, the, 503, 504 
Asiti, the Ri&hi, the child and Bud- 
dha, 231 
Asoka, the Buddhist king, 450, 451 
Astrology, 118 
Astrologers in Thibet, 144 
Asvagosha, a Buddhist preacher, 

122 
Atharva-Veda-Sanhita, the, 426, 427 
Atman, 661 

Atmospheric currents, an illustra- 
tion, 471 
Automatism, apparent puzzle of, 

resolved, 464r^66 



729 



730 



INDEX. 



Australia, burial rites in, 77 

Babel, confusion at, 597 
Balaam, treatment of, 597 
Balaki, the Brahman, 446 
Banshee, the Irish, 114 
Baptism, a general religious rite, 
58; in Fantee, 59; among the 
Cherokees, Aztecs, &c., 59; in 

■ Mexico, 59; in Mongolia and 
Thibet, 61; among the Parsees, 
61; in the Christian Church, 61, 
62; meaning of the rite, 62, 63 

Barabbas, 215, 216 

Barnabas, and Paul in Antioch, 
611; taken for Zeus, 611; separa- 
tion, 613 

Beatitudes, the, 350, 351 

Beauty and Bands, allegory of, 573 

Beliefs, necessary, vitidicalion of, 
678-680; conditions of, 680; ex- 
ample, 695, 696 

Benfey, translation of the Sama- Ve- 
da Sanhita, 425 

Bhikshu, a detiaed, 95 

Bhikshus and Bhikshunis, the, 479 

Bible, tlie, though above, yet among 
the sacred books of the world, 
369. 370; forced interpretations 
of 379, 380; mostly anonyomous, 
386; style of, 389, 390 

Birth, religious rites at, among 
savage nations, 57, 58; in Mex- 
ico, 59, 60; in Mongolia and 
Thibet, 61 

Bodhisattva, 175-180; in the womb, 
225; the nature of, 477. 478; their 
sacrifice of Nirvana, 478 

Bogda, thaumaturgic powers of, 122 

Books, sacred, all civilized nations 
nearly have, 370, 371 ; Greeks and 
Romans without, 370; list of, 370; 
their external marks — recognized 
inspiration, 371, 372; supposed 
merit of reading or repeating 
them, 372-375; subjection to 
forced interpretations, 375-383; 
internal marks — transcendental- 
subject-matter, 382-384; author- 
itativeness, 384, 385; general anon- 
ymity, 23--26; formh ssness, 385- 
389; of the Chinese, 390-424; sel- 
dom written by the authors of the 
religion, 413; of India, 425-448; 
of the Buddhists, 449-482; neces- 
sity for, 449; of the Parsees, 482- 
609; of the Moslems, 500-520; of 



the Jews, 518-603; of Christian- 
ity, 604^641 

Bo-tree, sanctity of, in Ceylon, 
127; Buddha, under, 180, 181 

Brahma, his incest, 600; not wor- 
shiped, 405, 406; and Brahm, 
406, 407 

Brahman, the caste, 183; the su- 
preme, 405 

Brahmanas, the, 379, 425, 426; their 
character, 444, 445; ritualistic ap- 
pendages to the Vedas, 444, 445; 
teaching of apologue, 445; on a 
universal soul, 445, 446; on the 
future of the soul. 447; on pa- 
tience, 447; references to moral 
conduct, 448 

Bread and wine in the Eucharist, 
virtue of, 135 

Buddha, Gautama, a thaumaturgist, 
122; the tooth of, 124, 125; 'prep- 
aration for his last manifestation, 
170; uncertain data to go upon for 
his life, 171; when he lived, 172; 
early asceticism, 172, 173; abolish- 
es caste, his theoretic, 217; his 
four truths, 173; the interpreta- 
tion of these, 173; his death, 274; 
his chief disciples, 274; spread of 
his religion, 274; essential prin- 
ciples, 174, 175;. his blameless- 
ness, 175; the mythical twelve 
periods of bis lite, i. 176; resolu- 
tion to be born, 176; choice of 
parents, 176; his birth, 177; vari- 
ous names of, 177; adoration by 
an old Rishi, 178; qualifies him- 
self for marriage, 178; enjoyment 
of domestic life, 179; departure 
from home and assumption of 
the monastic character, 178; temp- 
tations, 178; his hnrse Kantaka, 
178; his penances, 180; his tri- 
umph over the devil, 180; be- 
comes perfect Buddha, 180, 181; 
turns the Wheel of the Law, 180 ; 
his reception by kings, 180; his 
first conversions, 180; founds 
monastic institutions, 180; enters 
Nirvana, 449; funeral rites, 181; 
relics, 181; aristocratic descent, 
221; gestation of, 224, 225; signs 
at his birth, 226; infant, recog- 
nized Simeon-wise by the Rishi 
Asita, 231 ; his temptations in the 
wilderness, 231; and the Matangi 
girl, 285; compared with Christ, 



INDEX. 



731 



242-344; and the widow's mite, 
342, 343; and the cup of cold wa- 
ter, 344; as a fisher of men, 344; 
exalts humility and poverty, 345; 
on divorce, 345, 346; and Christ, 
362-365; his sayings collected, 
343; sects in the Church of 449; 
extravagant adoration 458; paint- 
ing the picture of, 458, 459; and 
the two condemned felons, 136- 
139; central figure of Buddhism, 
146; successive manifestations, 
476, worship of. 477; training of, 
476, 478. 481: disciples of, 480 

Buddha Sakymuni, leaps into the 
fire, 58 

Buddhas, the, Pratyeka, 478. 

Buddhism, ascetic nature and rules 
of, 93-95; fathers of, miracle wor- 
kers, 121, 122; goal of, 120; its 
sacred canon, 449-451; ten com- 
mandments of, 467; boundless 
charity of, 468; regard for per- 
sonal purity, 469-471; its four 
truths, 473; Buddha its central 
figure, 476; gods of, 476; grades 
in, 478, 479; morality of, 480-483; 
five commandments of, 550; not 
without a god, ii. 655-657. 

Buddhists, 93-95; antecedent to 
Buddhism, 95; in India, 96, 97; of 
Visvamitra, 96, 97 

Bunyan's 'Tdgrim's Progress" 
compared with the Apocalypse, 
366, 367 

Caaba, the, 188-190. 

Carlyle, Thomas, forestalled by 
Confucius, 167; his " Everlast- 
tingNo." 186; on Mahomet, 192 

Cause, the notion of, 484; the 
known. See Power. 

Ceylon, religious observance in, 
51; festivals in, 53; marriage in, 
75, 76; burial rites in, 78; omens 
in, 112, 113; divination in, 117; 
the Bo-tree, 127. 

Child, myth of the dangerous, 
227-230 

China, Emperor of, praying for 
rain, 36; sacrifice in, 42; di- 
vination in, 117, 118; in the 
days of Confucius, 159; official 
creed of, 391; sacred writings 
of, 39; authentic history of, 
remote, 403; fate of the early 
Emperors of, as good or bad. 



403-406; its sages and kings, 
405-407; the "religiones licitse " 
of, 413 

Chinese, the, sacred books once 
nearly destroyed, 391; their po- 
litical doctrines, 394; their ethics, 
395, 396: their loyalty to the he- 
rocs as heaven-appointed, 398, 
399 

Christ, Jesus, conceived necessity 
of his death, 47; his appeal to 
miracles, 123; divinity of, not 
found in the New Testament, 
326, 327; Mahomet's view of, 
513, 514; worship of, 665. See 
Jesus. 

Christians, the early, communists, 
607; first breach among, 608; 
severe disciplme of, 614 

Christianity, fundamental concep- 
tion of, 48, 49; festivals of, 52; 
ascetic spirit of early, 97; ascetic 
development of, 98, 99; power- 
less over the Jews since the death 
of Christ, 314, 315; originally 
Judaic, 334; its worship of Christ, 
308; its treatment of the Father 
and the Spirit, 309, 310 

Christmas, a pagan festival, 53. 

Church, the, necessary infallibility 
of, 152 

Choo He, his criticism of preface 
to Chinese odes, 380, 381 

Chow, the Duke of, on the favor of 
heaven, 406 

Ch'uu Ts'ew, the, forced interpre- 
tation applied to, 376-378, 411; 
its subject matter and authorship, 
411-413; opinions of Dr. Legge, 
411-413, ot Mang, 411, 412; ex- 
tract, 412; topics, 412 

Chung Yung, the, authorship of, 
394; its doctrine of the "Mean," 
394, 395; its doctrine of virtue 
and heaven, 395, 396 

Cicero on immortality, 688. 

Circumcision, wide-spread practice 
of, 63; among the Jews, 64; of 
women among the Suzees and 
Mandingoes, 73, 74 

Clement, quotation from, on second 
coming, 338, 339 

Clergy, secular and regular, 100 

Cobbe, Frances Power, 641 

Coming, the second, apostolic doc- 
trine on, 334-339. 

Confucius, neither an ascetic re- 



732 INDEX. 

cluse nor a religious enthusiast, Veda; 535, 536; of animals smd 

158, 159; regard for ritual, 159- man, Hebrew account, 536-538, 

201; birth and early life, 159; Fijian account, 538; impossible, 

as a teacher, 159; subject of his 707 

doctrines, 160; refuses state en- Creeds, the error of, 709, 710. 
dowments, 160; chief magistrate Cylinders, rotary, in Thibet, with 
of Loo, 160; resignation 160; sacred texts, 373, 374. 
death, 161; cliaracter, 162; want- 
ing in the bold oiiginality of the Dakhmas, the, 79, 80. 
other reformers of religion, 162; Daniel, the book of, 586, 587; the 
charge of insincerity, 162; his prophet, 587, 588, 590 
purity, 163; his courteous man- Darwinism, an epoch, 705 
ners, 164; lormal deporiment, 165 ; Death, rites at, in iMew South Wales, 
relations with his disciples, 165; 77 ; in Wes.ern Africa, 77, 78 
four virtues of which he was in Polynesia, 77; in Mexico, 78 
master, 166, sense of a mission, in Ce^'lon, 77; in Thibet, 88 
166, 167; pain at being misunder- among Ciiristians, 89, 90 
stood, 167; had no theological Death-watch, the, in Scotland, 114 
beliefs, 167; lays all stress upon Debt a disqualification in Budd- 
terrestrial virtues, 168; had an hism, 460 
esoteric doctrine, 169; subjects Delphi, oracle at, 126 
on which he did not talk, 170; Deluge, the, Hebrew account' of, 
minds not things too high for 541, 542; other traditions, 243, 
him, but is silent, 170; summary 244; Indian tradition, 244, 245; 
of moral duties, 171; moral per- the judgment by, 597 
fection, 171; doctrine of reciproc- Demoniac possession in the days of 
ity, 172; some of his sayings, 172, Christ, 210, 211; in Judea, Abys- 
173; Carlylean utterances, 173; sinia, Polynesia, and Ceylon, 245, 
Tsge-Kung's admiration for him, 246 

173; interview with and opinion Design, argument from, 711, 712 

of Lao-tse, . 174, 175; ante-natal Destruction, impossible, 706 

signs,' 225; his teachings similar Devadatta, 481 

to Christ's, 342; doctrine of rec- Devas, the worship of, renounced 

ompense, 354-357; idea of perfect by the Parsees, 490 

virtue, 361; and Christ, 362-365; Didron, M., on the Scriptural proof 

on unseen spiritual beings, 395, of the Trinity, 379; on mediae- 

396; left writings, 414 val representations of the Father 

Confucianism the official creed in and the Son in the Trinity, 665, 

China, 391 666 

Consciousness, its rise unaccounted Disciples, the, rebuked by Christ 

for by material evolution, 705; for not casting out a devil, 244; 

necessarily of spiritual evolution. and Judaism, 328-341, 345 

706, 707; not by creation, nor Disease, moral theory of, 141 

from nothing, 707 Disease-makers in Tanna, 140 

Consecration, power of, among the Divination a profession, 115; in 

Mongolians, 86; among the Cath- South Africa, 115; from sticks 

olics, 86; differs from sacrifice, and bones, 115, 116, by familiar 

86; permanence of, 87 spirits, 116, 117; among the Amer- 

Consecrated objects in Sierra Leone, ican Indians, 117, 118; among 

84; among the Tartars, 84; in the Osliacks, 118; in China, 118, 

Ceylon, 86; value of, 86. 119; in Ceylon, 119; by the stars, 

Cornelius, conversion of, 328, 610 120 

Creation of the universe, Hebrew Diviners, methods of, in Sierra Le- 

account of 531-533; account, of one, 143; in Mexico, 143; among 

the Quiches, 533, of the Mixtecs, the Jews, 145 

533, 534, of the Buddhists, 534, of Divorce, Christ's doctrine of, 304; 

the Parsees, 534, 535; of the Rig- Paul's doctrine of, 632 



INDEX. 



733 



Dogs, Parsee respect for, 499, 500 
Drake, Sir Francis, and his men, 

divine honors paid to, 256, 257. 
Dreams, presumed supernatural ori- 
gin of, 106; theory of, 107; in- 
terpretation of, 107; Jewish cer- 
emony against bad, 107, 108; in 
Scripture, 108, 109 ; in IL)mer, 
110; horn and ivory gates of, 110 
Dreams, Joseph's, as a main proof 

of the incarnation, 108 
Dress, Buddhist rule for nuns, 467 
Duty, Chinese definition of, 395 

Easter, 55 

Ebionite, the, a sect apart, 333; their 
fate, 334 

Ecclesiastes, the work of a cynic, 
568; account of, 569 

Eddas, the Norse, 388 

Ego, consciotisness of the 700 

Elisha, an Amazuhi, 556 

Elohim, the, 663, 664 

Epistles, the, of the JSTew Testa- 
ment, general burden of, 618, 619 

Equilibrium of soul, Chinese defi- 
nition of, 395. 

Essenes, the, 96 

Essence, the ultimate, of Brahmin - 
ism, 661, 662. 

Evil, origin of, Hebrew account of, 
537,538; Buddhist accouut, 539, 
540 

Evolution theory, its dark .^pot, 705; 
its great triumph, 706 

Existence the course of evil, 474, 
475; at bottom, what? 702 

Exorcism among the Jews, 212; 
among the disciples of Christ, 
213. 

Experience as a test of truth, 678, 
679 

Ezekiel the prophet and his prophe- 
cies, 582, 584 

Faith and belief distinguished, 23; 
and works. Scripture contro- 
versy on, 618, 619; and belief, re- 
lations of, 709-711 

Fasting as a religions rite, 55 

Festivals, idea of, 52 ; natural sea- 
sons of, 52; in Guinea, China, 
&c., 53; New Year's day in 
China, 53; Christmas, 54; among 
the Jews, 55; three kinds of, 54, 
55; of Peruvians, 56 

Fetish, idea of a, 132; power to 



charm, 133, priests as healers, 
141 

Fire a sacred symbol, 56; invoca- 
tion of, 489; Pardee worship, 494, 
495 

Force, persistence of, 672-677; Her- 
bert-Spencer on, 677, 705; the 
notion of, 717 

Frashaostra, 183, 184 

Fravashis, the, 493 

Gadarene demoniac, the, i. 243 

Gatha, the fifth, i. 182; account of 
the first, ii. 487. 488; the second, 
ii. 485, 486; thir.l, ii. 486, 487; 
fourth and fifth, ii. 487, 488 

Gathas, the five, antiquity of, ii. 
484; account of, ii. 485-490 

Gentleness, Lao-tse on, ii. 419 

Ghost, the Holy, the Christian art, 
ii. 666, 667; generally unwor- 
shiped, 668 

God, personality of, not an essen- 
tial element in religious belief, 
719; loss of personality of, a 
gnin, 720 

God of Israel, the, his imperious 
attitude, 590; arbiirary conduct 
towards man in Paradi'^e, 591, 
592; his command to Abraham, 
592; a Bramanical contrast, 592; 
his favoritism for Abel. 592; for 
Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, 594; 
594; partizanship in delivering 
the Israelites from Egypt, 594, an'd 
glvini^ them Canaan, 594 ; exact- 
ingand "jealous," 594; anger and 
the calf iuolaters, 595 ; treatment 
of the I^raeliies in the wilder- 
ness, 594, 595; capriciousness, 595, 
596, in the punishment by deluge, 
596, towards the builders of Babel, 
596; in regard to Balaam, ii. 596, 
Nudab and Abihu, ii. 597, the man 
that touched the ark, ii. 597, his 
rejection of Saul, ii, 598; prefer- 
ence for Samuel, 598; treatment 
of Ahab, ii. 598; his treatment of 
alieu nations, 599; his legislation. 
600, in regard to the Sabbath, 600, 
idolatry, 600, filial impieiy, 600; 
anthropomorphic conceptions of, 
6U2, 603; better CiCmenis in the 
ideal, 603, 604 

God of Christendom, the, differs 
fiom the God of Israel, 636; his 
worst action, 637 ; the the change 



734 



INDEX. 



accounted for, 637, 638; no longer 
the God of a race, 638; one Wot 
on his character, makes punish- 
ment eternal, 638, 639 ; step to- 
ward a milder view, Purgatory, - 
640; recent still milder concep- 
tions, 641 

Grod the Father in mediaeval art, 
665, 666 

God, belief in, as Father, 683; as 
Son, 683, 683; as Spirit, 683 

God among the Fijians, 650, 651; 
the Negroes, 653, 654; the Green- 
landers, 654; original Americans, 
654, 655; the great religions of 
the world, 655; of Buddhism, and 
655-657; interior superior, 657 



crucifixion, 365-367, of the res- 
urrection, 369-375, account of 
Christ's lineage and birth-place, 
395-398 

Greece, god's of, 386 

Groves, sacred, Africa and the 
South seas, 137 

Habakkuk, the prophet, 679 

Haggai, his prophecy, 585 
Hauyfites, 550 
Haoma, the plant, 46, 47 
Harischandra, legend of, 346-349 
Harmony, Chinese spiritual, 395 
Haug, Dr, on the ages of the Vedas, 

428, 429; his translation of the 

Gathas, 483 



God, the highest, recognized amidst Hea, decrees against the King of, 
inferior, worshiped gods, in Gui- 404, 405 



nea, 657; among the Kafirs, 657; 
in Sierra Leone, 658; in Daho- 
mey, 658; among the Ashantees, 
658, 659; in Mexico and Peru, 
659; in Sabaeisra, 059; among the 
Hindus, 659-664; in Judaism, 664, 
665; in ChrisLiauily, 664-666; va- 
rious explanations of the idea of, 
669, of common realism, 670, 698, 
ofnieta physical realism, 671, 672, 
698; comparative estimate ot these 
theories, 672, 673; of moderate 
idealism, 673, 676, 698; philosoph- 
ical conclusion, 476, 477 
Go^s appealed to as men, 39, 40 
Goethe, quotation, 415 
Gopa, wife of Buddha, 177-179 
Gospels, the, 199; criticism of the 
narratives, 199-204; discrepancies 
in regard to the genealogies, 218- 
320; accounts of Christ's birth, 331 



Heaven and hell, Mahometan, 516, 

517 
Heaven, Chinese definition, of,' ii. 

396 
Hebrews, the, its teachings, as con- 
trasted with that of James, 618- 

630 
Hegira, Ihe, 189 
Here's conception of Hephaistos, 

333 
Hermits, Indian, 195 
Herod and the birth of Christ, 337- 

339 
Herod the Tetrarch, fate of, 611 
Heu Hing, political economy of, 

400 
Hezekiah, and Isaiah, 550; divine 

favor to, 557; inglorious reign of, 

558 
Hilkiah, and his associates, and Jo- 



siah, 533-535 
321, 222; discrepancies regarding Hindus, ritual among the, 51; fes- 
Christ's habitation, 339; regard- tivals among the, 52-54 
ing the calling of his first dis- Hodgson, his discovery in Nepaul, 
ciples, 230, 331 ; discrepancies , 451 
about the sermon on the Mount, Homa, the god, 506-508 
343; hopelessness of chronology, Homa-Yasht, the, 506 
343; account of Christ's entry into Homer, poems of, 388; 389 
Jerusalem, 253; account of tne fig- Horace, quotation, 418 
tree, 354; accounts of Christ's an- Hosea, the prophet, 573 
nointing, 235; accounts of Christ's How-tseih, miraculous birth of, 334 
betrayal by Judas, 340, 341 ; ac- Huran, prayer of a, 33 

Hymns, .Vedic, of cursing, 565, 566 
Hysteria in Judea in the days of 
Christ, 310, 211 



counts of Christ's last passover, 
358, 359; account of Christ's pas- 
sion, 360, 261 ; account of Christ's 
arrest, 261, 263, of Jesus before 
the Sanhedrim, 362, 363, of Je 



Ibos, sacrifice among the, 42 



sus before Pilate, 363-265, of the Idealism, its forms, 673; moderate. 



INDEX, 



735 



as a solution, 677-67G; extreme, 
676 

Idolatry, the crime of, among the 
Jews, 600 

Immortality of the soul, not an ar- 
ticle in either the Buddhist or 
Jewish creed, 687; the Greek and 
Roman philosophers on, 687, 688 

Incas, the worship of, by images, 
651 

Indian, Nootka, prayer of, 32 

Indra, his praises, 433; his soma- 
drinking, 433; the Indian Zeus, 
433 . 

Infallibility of the clergy, 153 

Inspiration of sacred books, 311, 
372; among the Chinese, 380, 381, 

Instruction, Chinese definition of, 
305 

Interpretation, forced, of sacred 
books, 375-383 

Isaac, the sacrifice of, an Indian 
parallel to, 545-548 

Isaiah quoted to prove Messiahship 
of Christ. 297-299; o3das a proph- 
ecy of Christ, 299; his rank as a 
prophet, 517; dales of his proph- 
ecies, 518; earliest stratum of his 
prophecies, 518 ; contrast with 
Joel, 519; on the Jerusalem ladies, 
519; second part, 519; accepts the 
divine call, 520; third part, 520; 
fourth part, 520, 521; fifth, sixth, 
and seventh parts, 521 ; vision of 
the future, 521 

Jacob, his bargain with Jehovah, 
39 ; his conduct to Esau, 594 

Jahveh, the holy name, 664 

James, the Epistle of, its teaching 
contrasted with that of the He- 
brews, 619, 620 

Jehovah, his praises in the Psalms, 
38; and Adonia, 663, 664 

Jeremiah, the prophet, 579; his call 
579, 580 ; denunciatory prophe- 
cies, ii. 580, 581; and Pashur, 581; 
analysis of his prophecies, ii. 581, 
582; lamentations of, 583 

Jesus Christ, the historical (see 
Christ), diflSculties in regard to 
materials for his life, 199; com- 
pared with the mythical, and the 
ideal, 200; his sayings credibly 
reported, 201, criticism of his 
doings, 202 ; further tests ap- 
plied, 202-204 ; his parents and 



family, 204-206; his mother, 205; 
birth at Nazareth, 206; origin- 
ally a carpenter, 207 ; influence 
of John the Baptist, 206, 207; 
207; comes forth a Messiah, 207; 
boldly assets his claim, 207; his 
early disc pies, the three most in- 
timate, 207, 208; female follow- 
ers, 209; his own family and 
neighbors ualriendly to his mis- 
sion, 208, 209 ; his public teach- 
ing, 2u9 ; state of Judea at the 
, time 209, 210; casts out devils, 
'210. 211; his sermons and para- 
bles, 212 ; authority as a teach- 
er, 212, 213 ; offends the Jews 
by forgiving sin, 213; disregard 
of Sabbatical customs, 213; claim- 
ing Messiahship, 213, 214; abus- 
ing his enemies, 214; violent con- 
duct in the Temple, 214; his be- 
trayal and apprehension, 214; ac- 
cusation and tria', 215, 216; the 
witnesses and his defense, 215, 
216; his condemnation, 216; be- 
fore Pilate, 216; crucifixion, 216; 
interment, 216 
Jesus, of the Gospels, indifference 
to alleged lineage and birth-place, 
294 ; believed to be of Nazara- 
reth, 296 ; misapplies a prophe- 
cy to himself, 298, 299; and the 
Jewish Sabbath, 3ul, 302; offense 
taken at the company he kept and 
free living, 302; his neglect of the 
tradition of the elders, 303 ; views 
of divorce, 304; on paying tribute, 
304, 305; and the Sadduceesin re- 
gard to the future state, 305-307; 
two chief commandments, 307; on 
the denunciation of the Scribes, 
408, 409; provokes opposition, 409; 
exftulsion of the money-changers, 

409, 410; defense of his conduct, 

410, 411; gives offense to the 
Sanhedrim, 312; before the San- 
hedrim, 312; before Pilate, 313; 
his faith in his Messiahship, 316; 
conscious of being son ot God, 
316, 317; comparative modesty of 
the claim, 317; asserted inferior- 
ity to the Father, 318; his relation 
to the law, 319, 320; his mission 
confined to the Jews, 320, 321; 
his idea of his mission his one 
thought, 321-320; his warning to 
his disciples to be ready, 321-323; 



736 



INDEX. 



his idea of his kingdom, 323; his 
one qualification for admission, 
324; his kingdom to be on earth, 
325; Peter's confession of, 327; 
doctrine of his divinity not found 
in the New Testament, 327; not 
thought to have a design of sub- 
verting the Mosaic law, 328; 
modern laudation of, 339; mate- 
rials for criticism, 339, 340; his 
fondness for contrasts, 340, 341, 
his resemblance to Lao-tse, 344; 
aversion to wealth and wealthy 
men, 446, 447; his doctrine in re- 
gard to invitations to feasts, 
448; parable of the laborers in 
. in the vmeyard, 449; his asser- 
tion of eternal punishment, 350; 
his false estimate of the power of 
prayer, 349; his sermon on the 
Mount, 450-462 ; his doctrine of 
murder, adultery, and perjury, 
451, 452; of resisting evil by aoing 
good, 452, 453; his model prayer, 
356, 358; on the superiority of 
heavenly to temporal interests, 
358-461; founder of scieniific 
ethics, 360; as a prophet, com- 
pared with Buddha and Confu- 
cius, 362-364; compared with So- 
crates, 464, 465 ; his transcendent 
moral grandeur, 366; as a man of 
sorrows, 366-368. 

Jesus Christ, Mahomet's view of, 
513, 514 

Jesus, the ideal, of St. John, pecu- 
liarities of the narrative, 277- 
288; improbabilities, 288; raising- 
Lazarus, 288-291 ; at the marriage 
feast, 279, 280; heals by a word, 
282; at the pool of Bethesda, 282; 
interviews with Nathaniel, &c., 
280, 281, 283; symbolic teachings, 
281-283; last discourse to his dis- 
ciples, 283; as the Logos, 283, 284; 
Oneness with God, as his father, 
284 ; last days and moments, 286, 
287 

Jesus, the mythical, the accounts 
of, 216, 217; variety of these, 
217; the genealogies, 217-221; 
conception and nativity, 221-223; 
mythological parallels, 223-226; 
medraevai painting of, in the 
womb, 225; recognition by the 
shepherds, 226 227; by the Magi, 
337; and Herod, 327, 228; a 



dangerous child, 328-230; cir- 
cumcision, 230; recognized by 
Simeon, 231 ; by Anna, 231; in the 
Temple, 232-233; called a Nazar- 
ene, 234; his baptism, 334, 236; 
message from John the Baptist, 
336; temptation, 237; comes to 
Capernaum, 338; reasons for leav- 
ing Nazareth 238, 239;. reception 
in Nazarelh as a preacher, 239; 
has an aboJe, 339; no ascetic, 240; 
in comfortable circumstances, 240; 
collects followers, 240, 241; calls 
Peter, 241; calls Matthew, 341; 
appoints twelve, 241; his 'four se- 
lect, 341, 242; works miracles, 
342; sermon on the Mount, 242, 
243; heals the Gadarene demoniac, 
343; expels a devil, and rebukes 
his disciples for their want of 
faith, 244; heals the Syropheni- 
cian damsel, 244, 245; heals a 
leper, 246; a paralytic, 246; raises 
Jarius' daughter, 246, 248 ; heals a 
woman with an issue of blood, 
248; the centurion's servant, 248, 
249; heals a deaf mute, 250; heals 
a blind man, 250, ten lepers, 250; 
raises the widow's son, 250; mi- 
raculously feeds a multitude, 250; 
w^alks on the water, 251; stills 
the storm, 251; his transfigura- 
tion," 251, 252; foretells his cru- 
cifixion and resurrection, 253; 
triumphal eutry into Jerusalem, 
253, 254; blasts the fig-tree, 254; 
purges the temple, 354; last an- 
ointing, 254; betrayal by Judas, 
257; keeps his last passover, 258; 
institutes the supper, 259; washes 
his disciples' feet, 260; in Gtth- 
semane, 260; arrest, 261; before 
the Sanhedrim, 361, 262; before 
Pilate, 262-265; before Herod, 
264; mockery, 265; crucifixion, 
265-267; last words, 267; wonders 
accompanying his death, 267; his 
burial, 268, 209; resurrection, 

. 269-273; ascension, 275 

J'ews, sacrifices among the, 43-44; 
prayers, 50; festivals of, 53, 53; 
passover among, 55; rite of cir- 
cumcision among, 64; historical 
result of their rejection of Christ, 
387, 388; unjust treatment, 289; 
consideration in extenuation, 389; 
their provocations, 390, 391; ere- 



INDEX. 737 

dulity of skepticism in regard to Jordan, crossing the, an Indian par- 
Messianic pretensions. 292; justi- a'lel, 553 

fica'ionof their Mes'^ianic expec- Joseph, the father of Jesus, 204- 

tations, 292-294; excusable ignor- 218-221-229-233. 

ance ns to Christ's lineage, 295, Josiah, Jeliovistic cowj? c^'^to^, under 

296; and their own propliecies, 523, 525 

296-299; treatment of Christ's Judas, his betrayal of Jesus, 214; 

miracles, 299; their e«!teera for the slander against, 255; betrays 

Sabbath law, 300, 301: their of- Christ, 263; myth of his unhappy 

ense at Qhrist for his disrcL^ard end, 257, 258; charged witli his 

of ceremonial observance, 300- intended crime at the last supper, 

303; their right to interrogate 258, 259; arrest of Christ, 261, 263 

Christ, 303; question to Jesus Judaism, antagonism to asceticism, 

about tribute, 304. 305; just of- 96; of John the Baptist, 97; ten- 

fense, as monotheists, at Christ, dency of Christianity to encour- 

313; and Christianity, 314-316; age, 97; idea of, 98; Protestant 

justification of their rejection of disregard of, 99; and Christianity, 

Christ, 315; identified with their 328; and the apostle Paul, 330, 

Bible, 162; settlement in Judea, 831; and the early Church, 334 
162, 163; under kings, 163; in 

captivity, 163; epoch in their his- Kafirs, prayer of, 34; sacrifice 

.tory, 163; their national god, 164- among the, 42, 43; sneezing an 

166; early creed not monotheistic, omen among, 110; other omens 

166; idolatry, 167; not Jehovistic, among, 112 

only the priests, 167, 169; effects Kama, burning of, 55; invoked to 

of the captivity, 170-172; under curse, 566 

the Maccabees, 173; their pride Kantaka, horse of Buddha, 179 

and intolerance, 133, 173; under Karma, the, of Buddhist ethics, 481 

the Asmoneans and the Herods, Kava-Vistaspa, 183, 184 

173; under the Romans, 174; in Keigjhlley, data from, on saint wor- 

Christendom, 175; their tough- saip in England, 008 

ness, 175. Khadija, the first wife of Mahomet, 

Job, story of the book of, 563, 564 187; her relations with the proph- 

**Jocelyn," Lamartine's, 102, 103 et, 187; her death, 180 

Joel, his prophecy, 571; Isaiah, 575 Khorda-Avesta, the, 502-509; its 

John, Baptist, asceticism of, 96, 206, use, 502; subject-matter and date, 

207; baptizes Christ, 235; message 503 

from prison to Christ, 336; Christ's King, the meaning of the term, 391; 

estimate of, 336. the five, 391, 392 

John, Gospel of, silence about mi- Kingdom of heaven, Christ's idea 

raculous conception, 221; account of, 321-324; Paul's, 335; Peter's 

of Christ's baptism, 235; account 336 

of the crucifixion, 268; on Christ's Koran, style of, 194; 378-389; the 
Divinity, 327, 328; its value in staple of, 198; the single author- 
evidence, 328 ship and unit}'- of, 510; apology 
John, the apostle, the beloved dis- for its style, 510; translations, 
ciple, 281; his Gospel, its fond- 510; origin and formation of, 510; 
ness for symbolic speech, 281, 282; original copy, 511; arrangement, 
for obscure theological questions, 611; themes, 511, 512; specimens, 

383, 384; doctrine of the Logos, 512; its paradise, 517; its hell, 517 

384, 385; his Gospel as regards Korosi. his discovery, 451 
Christ's birth-place and lineage, Kosti, investure with tlie, 74 

294, 295 Kranos, his dread of his children, 

John, the three epistles of, 620, 621 229 

Jonah, book and story of, 586 587 Kunala, legend of, 481 

Jongleurs, the, in New France, in- Kyros, a dangerous child, 230 

stallation of, 601 



738 



INDEX. 



Lady, a pious, 460 

Lao-tse, probable date of birth, 168; 
admonition to Confucius, 168; 
account of himself, 168; resem- 
bled Plato's philosopher, 169; his 
style similar to Christ's, 340; the 
Christianity of, 353 ; left writings, 
413; description of Tao, 414; con- 
ception of goodness, 418; on gen- 
tleness, 419; against luxury, 419; 
has three cardinal virtues, 420; 
mysticism, 420; conception of 
God, 421, 422; his character and 
teaching, 422 

Lazarus, story of, peculiar to John's 
Gospel, 255 ; his resurrection, 347, 
348 

Lazarus and Dives, 344, 347, 350 

Legge, Dr. James, his Chinese clas- 
sics, 390; his opinion of the 
authorship of Ch'un' Tsew, 59 

Legislation, Hebrew, 600-603 

Libations in sacritice, 47; in Tar- 
tary, Samoa, Thibet, &c., 47 

Life, vital forces, Indian apologue, 
445, 446 

Linga, the, worship of, 54 

Lucretius on immortality, 688 

Luke, his genealogy of Jesus, 218- 
221; account of miraculous con- 
ception and birth, 222, 223; ac- 
count of the shepherds, 226, 227; 
account of Christ's infancy, 230; 
discrepancies with Matthew, 233- 
236; his free spirit, 232; account 
of the call of Peter, 241; version 
of the sermon on the Mount, 243; 
account of lunatic boy, 244; his 
partiality for angels, 252; accom- 
panies Paul, 257 

Lun Yu, the, date of, 392; subject 
matter, 392; its Boswellian min- 
uteness of detail, 292 

Luxury, Lao-Tse on, 419 

Magi and the birth of Christ, 228- 

230 
Mahomet, pretensions of, to the su- 
pernatural, 122; the last of the 
great prophets, 186; his religion 
self-derived, 187; his parents and 
birth, 187; his original social 
position, 187; marries Kha-dija, 
187; his first revelation, 187; 
passes through the period of the 
** Everlasting No." 187; Gabriel 
his guardian angel, 187; first dis- 



ciples, 187; his doctrines provoke 
persecution, 187; his momentary 
relapse into idolatry and repent 
anco, 188; persecution of his 
family, 188; birds by a vow pil- 
grims from Medina, 188; his flight 
to Medina, 189; success there, 189; 
war with Mecca, 189; truce with 
the Meccans, 190; summons 
crowned heaus to submit to his 
religion, 190; first pilgrimage to 
Mecca, 190; enters Mecca in tri- 
umph, 191; proclamation to the 
inhabitants, 192; final triumph 
and death, 191; his character an 
open question, 192; his sincerity, 
193-195; sense of inspiration, 193; 
time-servirg withal, 193; inspired 
poetic style, 193; his predecessors, 
195; his sources of information, 
195; takes to the sword, 195; con- 
duct to the Jews, 195, 196;, his' 
weak point, 196, 197; his harem, 
197; his marriages, 198; his jeal- 
ousy, 198; triumph of his relig- 
ion, 199, 200; aristocratic descent, 
221; ante-natal intimations of his 
greatness, 226; the infant recog- 
nized by his grandfather, 231 ; his 
awe under the new revelation, 
512; his stock-in-trade, 513; view 
of his prophetic function, 513; 
prophets acknowledged by, 514; 
views of Christ, 514, 515 ; of him- 
self, 516, 517; address of God to, 
516 

Malachi on sacrifices to God, 44; 
prophecies of, 586, 587 

Man, the wise and the fool, chapter 
from, 468 

Mang, on high-mindedness, his 
teaching similar to Christ's, 341 ; 
a disciple of Confucius, 396; his 
works, 396, 397; late introduction 
to the canon, 397, 398; his demo- 
cratic philosophy, 398; his view 
how heaven makes known its will, 
399, 400; notions of good govern- 
ment, 399,400; a political econo- 
mist, 401 ; his regard' for propri- 
ety, 401, 402; his faith in human 
nature, 492, 403; his moral tone, 
403 

Manu, code of, on legal -and illegal 
forms of marriage, 76, 77; the 
typical ancestors of men, 447; 
and the deluge, 543, 544 



INDEX. 739 

Mark, G.ospcl of, its credibility, Miracles as credentials of the divine, 
203; omits miraculous conception, 120, 121; of Buddhism, 121; 
221; account of Christ's bap- among the Mongols, 122; among 
tism, 235; reference to Christ's the Moslems, 122; of Christianity, 
temptation. 237 123; in the early Church. 123, 

Marriage, rites at, peculiar to civil- 124; of the Mormons, 124, 125; 
ized nations, 75; in Ceylon, 75; iusufflcieacy of the evidence in the 
in Thibet, 76; according to the case of Christ, 299. 300 
code of Manu, 76; among Par- ^Eite, the widow's, 342. 343 
sees, Jews, and Christians, 77; Mithra, the god, 467, 471, 493 
with strangers, among the Jews, Mitra, 435 
600 Moments, four sacred, 57 

Marriage-tie, the, Christ on, 345 Mcnasticism in Mexico and Peru, 
Maruts, the, prayer to, 35, 38 89, 92; amoug the Buddhists, 
their nature, 434 93-95; in Slam, 96; in Nepaul, 

Mary, the mother of Jesus, 204, 97; in Christianity, 104 
205, 218, 221-223, 233, 234; at the MoDk, Buddliis^, condemned, to 
cross, 267 monkeyhood, 556 

Masses for the dead, 80 Monotheism, fate of, 312 

Materialism, unphilosophic, 694 Monteguma ai;d human sacrifice, 

Matthew, his genealogy of Jesus, 41 
218-221; account of miraculous Mormons, the, claim to supernatu- 
conception, and birth, 221, 222; ral gifts, 124, 125 
account of the Magi, 227; reti- Moses, a dangerous Child, 229; ad- 
cence about infancy of Christ, dress of God to, 615; the ten 
230; discrepancies with Luke, commandments of, 549, 550; com- 
233-236; call of, 241: version mandments of the tables of stone 
of sermon on the Mount, 243; given to, 595, 596; mercifulness, 
his misappropriation of prophecy, 239; divine manifestations to, 
297, 298 602 

Maya Devi, her dream, 176 ; her Moslems, prayer among the, 51 
pregnancy, 176; delivery of a son, Muir, Dr., Sanskrit texts, 435 
177; death thereafter, 177 Miiller, Max, translator of Rig-Ve- 

Maya, her gestation-time, 225 da-Sauhita, 425; account of tlie 

Mean, the, Chinese doctrine ' of, Vedas, 427, 428; on the supreme 

394, 395 god of the Hindus, 662, 663 

Mencius. See Mang , Mytlis, three classes of, about Jesus, 

Messiah, the, the term, 292, 293; . 217; instance of first order, 221, 
Jewish ideas of. 292, 293; these 222, 224; of the dangerous child, 
ideas not responded to by Christ, 227; Perseus's birth, 229; of Oidi- 
293; presumptuous Christian in- pous, 229; of Christ's baptism, 352; 
terpretations, 293, 294; predic- illustration of the growth of, 234 
itons as to lineage and birth, 294- 

296; as son of David, 295; pre- Nagardjuka, thaumaturgic powers 
dictions of his birth from a vir- of, 122 

gin, 297, 298; in 53d of Isaiah, 279 Nahum, the prophet, andhisproph- 
Metaphysics, Buddhist, 473, 474 ecy, 578 

Mexico, human and other sacrifices Nathaniel, 280-285 
in, 41, 42, 43; worship in, 51; Nature, Chinese definition of, 395 
burial rites in, 78; monasticism Nausikaa, a Chinese, 409 
in, 91, 93 Nazareth, Christ's reputed birth- 

Mexican festival for rain, 35 place, 296 

Micah, the prophecy of, 578 Nazarites, the, 96 

Mill. J. S., a metaphysical realist, Neander on the Judaism of the 

676 early Church, 333. 334 

Mind, not resolvable in matter, or Newman, Francis W., 640 
physical cause, 689-692 Nicodemus, 267, 280, 282, 283, 285 



74:0 



INDEX. 



ISTidanas, the twelve, 473-475 
Nirvana, theory of, 474, 475; sacri- 
fice of, 478 

Obadiah, prophecy of, 577 

Objects, holy, in Peru, 133; trees as, 
134; animals as, 184; serpents as, 
134; images as, 135 

Odes, Chinese, traditional interpre- 
tation of, 379-381 

Offerings, religious, in Sierra Leone, 
84; in Tartary, 85 

Oidipous, 229 

Omar, his conversion to Mahome- 
tanism, 188 

Omens, divine, 106; in dreams, 106; 
in sneeziog, 109-110; interpreta- 
tion of, 111; from flight of eagles, 
111; from a horse turning back, 
111; from bleating of a sheep, 
111; among the Kafirs and Chi- 
nese, 112; in Ceylon, 112, 113; in 
the heavens, 113; in Tacitus, 113; 
114; in Ireland and Scotland, 114; 
at birth of great men, 114, 115 

Ophites, the, their worship, 134 

Ordeals, as a moral test, 119; in 
Western Africa, 119; among th& 
Hebrews, 120; among the Negroes 
120; among the Ostiacks, 121 

Orders, holy, in the Church of En- 
gland, 102. 103; Buddhist monas- 
tic rules, 104-106 

Ormazd. See Ahuka-Mazda. 

Pachacamac, or the universal soul, 
658 * 

Palestine, state of, in days of Christ, 
209, 210 

Parker, Theodore, 641 

Parsees, sacrifices among the, 44; 
prayers, 50; festivals of, 53; bap- 
tism among, 61, 62; burial rites; 
78,80 

Parseeism, rise of, 484; reformers' 
hymn, 483; religious zeal of, 486; 
objects of worship, 489; fire-wor- 
ship, 490, 491 ; confession of faith, 
490, 491; new divinities, 491, 493; 
respect for dogs, 499, 500; later 
respect for purity, 500, 501; 
times of, 507, 508; eight com- 
mttndments of, 550, 551 

Passover, the Jewish, 55 

Patets, the Parsees, 506, 507 

Patria Potestas, the, in Judea and 
Rome, 600, 601 



Paul, his independence and conces- 
sion to Jewish prejudices, 330, 
331; his views of the Mosaic law, 
332, 333; idea of the coming of 
Christ, 334, 335; as a persecutor, 
608; accounts of his conversion, 
608-610; his consecration, 611; at 
Paphos, 611; in Aniioch 611; at 
Lystra, taken for Hermes, 611; 
for a god, 611 ; parallel in the case 
of Sir Francis Drake, 612, 613; 
stoned, 614; parts with Barnabas, 
614; chooses Silas, 614; at Phil- 
lippi, 614; at Athens, 614; at 
Corinth, 614; at Ephesus, 614, 615; 
at Troas, 616; at Jerusalem, 616, 
617; appeal to Caesar, 616; in 
Rome, 617; his equal apostleship, 
621, 622; his epistles, their style 
and spirit, 623; his reasoning 
powders, 623, 624; his exclusive re- 
gard for essential principles, 623, 
624; denunciation of co-ijabitation 
with a stepmother, 626; against 
prostitution, 626; views on matri- 
mony, 628, 629, 630, 632; rules 
affecting widows, 029; preference 
for celibacy, 630; allows bishops 
and deacons to marry, 630; on 
divorce, 632; on the resurrection 
of the dead, 632-634; on brotherly 
love, 634; other maxims, 634 

Perseus, myth of his birth, 229 

Persia, power of, 482 

Peru, monasticism in, 91, 92 

Peruvians, festivals of, 55; baptism 
among, 58 

Peter, call of, 240; his denial of 
Christ, 262; his confession, 327; 
his vision, 328; and Judaism, 329, 
330; idea of kingdom of heaven, 
335, 336; conduct towards Ana- 
nias and Sapphira, 606, 607; de- 
liverance by an angel, 608: scan- 
dal caused by, 610; his epistles, 
619 

Pharisee, the, and publican, 344 

Pharisees, and Christ, 300, 305; de- 
nounced by Christ, 308, 309 

Phinehas and the Midianitish wo- 
man, 597 

Pilate, as governor of Judea, 263, 
263; treatment of Chritit, 263, 265; 
Christ before, 313 

*' Pilgrim's Progress," 635, 636. 
See BuNYAN 

Places, holy, 82, 83; special haunts 



INDEX. 



(41 



of the divine, 136, 127; in Africa 
and South Seas, 127; in Ceylon, 
(t)ie Bo-tree), 127; graves as, 127, 
128; in history, 128; oracles, 128; 
by consecration — tho temple, 128, 
129; holy of holies, 130 

Plato, his description of a philoso- 
pher in his "TheiEtetus," 170 

Polynesia, burial rites in, 78 

Positivism, weak point in, 157 

Pourutschista, St, 183, 184 

Power, the Unknown, not a sugges- 
tion of sense, 696, or of reason, 
696, 697, but of religious senti- 
ment, 697, 698 ; idea of, unac- 
counted for by Realism, com- 
mon and metaphysical, 698; mod- 
erate and extreme Idealism, 698; 
neiiher one nor many, but all, 699, 
700; sense of, an intuition, 700, 
701; of kin to mind, as in man, 
701, 702; includes consciousness, 
702; include 3 our nature, 702; the 
universal solvent, 703, 704; foun- 
tain of all reservoirs of force, 705; 
allows nothing to be a law to itself, 
705; our knowledge of, no riddle, 
707; illustralioLis, 708-712; the 
denial of, an affirmation, 717; 
faith in, the foundation of relig- 
ious faith, 718; answer to charge 
of vagueness, 719, 720; not a 
father, not a judge, 720; harmony 
of the idea of, with deep religious 
feeling, 721 

Praise conjoined with praj'-er, 32- 
37; part of worship, 37, 38: Chris- 
tian and heathen compared, 38 

Prajnpati, 535 ' 

Prayer, its influence, 32; its con- 
comitant, praise, 32; its primi- 
tive form and purpose, 33 ; speci- 
mens of primilive, 33; of Indi- 
ans, preparing lor war, 33; of a 
Huron, 33; of Kafirs, 34; of Car- 
ibbean Islanders, 34 ; of the Sa- 
moans, 34; Polynesian, 34, Vedic, 
85-37 ; Solomon's, 35; special, 
35; efficacy, 35; for rain and 
other physical benefits, 36; for 
Thebes, 38; specimens of, 38-40; 
and sacrifice, 39; forms of, 50; 
Christ's doctrine of, 350 : the 
Lord's, 356-358 

Pre Adamites, Buddhist, 460 

Priests, special function of, 99; in 
relation to the monastic order. 



99, 100; consecration of, in Green- 
land, 100; among the American 
tribes, 100; among certain Ne- 
groes, 100; in Mexico, 101; among 
the Jews, 101,102; in the Chris- 
tian Church, 102, 103; sanctity of, 
136; authority of, 136-138; grades 
of, 137; prophets ^Je/'.m.-?, 138; priv- 
ileges of, 138; primitive, 138; 
formation as a separate class, as 
medical practitioners-, 139, 140; 
disease-making, 140; as doctors 
in Australia, Africa, &c., 141; as 
healers among the Negroes, 140, 
141; as mediators for the sick, 
142; irregular, 142: miscellaneous 
functions, 142; in North America 
as soothsayers, 144; as fortune- 
tellers, &c., in Tljibet, 145; claim 
to inspiration, 145; Jewish high, 
claims and powers of, 146; pro- 
tected oy heaven, 146; repute of 
Brahminical, 147; functions of, 
147; as rain makers, &c., 148; 
power and sanctity of, 148, 149; 
in Ceylon and S am; 149; reward 
of, 149; tithes to, 149; the duty 
and privilege of offering, 152; 
privileges of, 150; hereditary, 151; 
internally called, 152; a demand 
for, 152; infallibility, 153 
Priestesses in Guinea, 148, 149 
Prophet, anonymous, 574; another, 
578 ; the anonymous, his rank 
among the prophets, 583 ; his 
prophecies, 584 ; the prophet of 
consolation, 584, 585 
Prophets of the world, the, 154; 
their ultimate authority, 155; mys- 
tically invested with superhuman 
endowment, 155; their absolute 
consciousness, 155, 156; their con- 
servative spirit, 156; the Hebrew, 
civil standing, 554, 555; Elijah 
and Elisha, 555; the most power- 
ful, 570 
Propli'.cy, Hebrew, originally oral, 
then written, 570; constant theme 
of, 570, 571; minor topics, 571 
Prosperity, national or royal, Jew- 
ish, Ch'nese, and Thibetan theo- 
ries of, 558, 559 
Protestantism and asceticism, 98 
Proverbs, the, a criticism, 568 
Psalms, the, their character, 564, 
565 ; of cut sing (ex. and cix.), 565; 
Vedic parallels, 565, 566 



742 



INDEX. 



Psalmists, the, their praises of Je- 
hovah, 38 

Puberty, rites of, cruel and myste- 
rious, 64, 65 ; meaning of the 
rites, 65, 66; Cailin's account of 
the rite among the Mandaas, 66, 
67 ; Schoolcraft's account, 68 ; 
rite in New Sr^uth Wales, 68-70; 
and in other parts of Australia, 
70, 71; of a Phallic nature in Af- 
rica, 71-73: in South Seas, 73; 
among the Hindus, 72, 73; among 
the Parsees, 74; among Jews and 
Christians, 74 

Punishment, eternal, doctrine of, 
350; in the Christian system, 638- 
640 

Purgatory, a merciful suggestion, 
640 

Purua, the Christianity of, 354; the 
legend of, 452-458 

Purusha Sukta, the, a universal es- 
sence, 438, 439 

Rain, prayer for, 35, 36 
Rays of Buddha, 113 * 
Realism, common, in relation to 
God, 670, 671; metaphysical, do, 

671, 672; corapa-ative estimate, 

672, 673; and Idealism, unable to 
solve the religious problem 698, 
699 

Reality, the one, 701 

Reason, the process of, 696 

Relations, the, of time and space to 
mind and matter, 691, 692 

Religion, interest and importance 
of the subject, 19, 20; fallacious 
evidences, 20. 21; method of in- 
quiry, 22, 23 ; universality and 
varied piiases, 22, 23; substance 
and form, 22; its root-principle, 
27; craving after, 28; twofold' as- 
pect and function, 29; analysis of 
treatment of the subject in these 
voluff-es, 28-30; two distinct ques- 
tions regarding, 645, 646; these 
resolved into three, 646; essential 
assumption, 647; ihiee f undamen- " 
tal postulates, 648; two kinds of 
pvoof, 649; universal, 649, 650; 
meagre among the Australians, 
650 ; in Kamschatka, 650 ; the 
permanent in, 668, 669; question 
suggested by, as regards God, 669; 
conclusion of science, 677, 678; 
tendency to limit itself in theol- 



ogy, 679, 680; historical progress 
of, 681, 682; the great truth in, 
offered to philosophy, 683 ; in- 
volves a faith in the soul, 684-694; 
final poHu'ate, 695 ; conclusion 
of, neither from sense nor reason, 
but sentiment, 696; conclusion of, 
necessary, 696; a pervadins: error 
and a general truth in, 709; real 
difficulty about, 711; denial of its 
truth emotional as well as the 
affirmation, 712; objections met, 
710, 725; the one universal foun- 
dation of, 718. 

Religions, founders of new, 15^; 
their comparison, 645 • 

Resurrection, of Christ, accounts of 
the, 269; the germ of these in 
Mark, 269, 270 ; Matthew's, 269, 
270; Luke's, 270; John's, 271, 
272; Paul's, 272. 273; summary of 
accounts, 272, 273; psychological 
explanation of the myth, 275, 
277; of Lazarus, 278, 279 

Reverend, the title of, 149 

Review, general, 643-645 

Rig Veda, the, 426, 427, 429 

Rig- Veda, Sanhita, its contents. 430, 
435; its praise of Agni, 431; of 
Indra and the Soma, 431-434; of 
the Maruts, 434; of Ushas, the 
dawn, 434; of Varuna, 435, 436; 
consciousness of one God, 437, 
438; speculative element, 440; on 
the Purusha Sukta, 438. 439; per- 
sonification of abstractions, 439, 
440; general estimate of, 440, 441; 
interest to the mythologist, 441; 
elementary religious ideas, 442, 
443 

Ritual, early, universal develop- 
ment of a fixed, 49, 50; in prayer, 
50; in worship, 51; in Mexican 
and other worships, 51; Griggo- 
ries, charms in Sierra Leone, 133 

Rome, Church of, and Paganism, 
56 

Rudrayana, legend of his conver- 
sion to Buddhism, 458, 459 

Sababism, god of, 659 

Sabbath, the Jewish, Christ's treat- 
ment of, 309-302 

Sacrament, the Christian, 46, 47 

Sacrifice, idea and origin of, 39, 40, 
42. 43, 48; motive to and duty of, 
49, 50; to the Amatongo, 40; ob- 



INDEX. 



743 



ject of, 41, 44; in Kamtschatka, 
42; human, 41; animal, among 
the Kafirs and in Western Africa, 
43; among tlie American Indians, 
42; in China, 42; amons:; llie Jews, 
42, 46; the Ibos, 42; in^Soulh Sea 
If^lands, 43; among the Mexicans, 
Peruvians, lucas, 43; among the 
Hindus, 43; among the P.arsees, 
44; Malaclii on, 45; amoug the 
Buddhists, 45; a requirement of 
the religious sentiment, 45; part 
of, the priests' and worshipers', 
46; among the Tembus, 46; by 
libation, 46; supposed effects on 
the deity, 47; theory of, among 
the Hindus, 47; id. a of, fuada- 
mental to Christianity, 48, 49 
Sadducees, the, and Christ, 305, 

308 
Saints, worship of, 310, 311 
Sakyamuni. See Buddha 
Salch, tbe legend of the prophet, 

158 
Sama Veda, the, 427, 429 
Samaria, the woman of, 281-284 
Samoans, prayer of the, 34; drink- 
offerings of, 47 
Samson, the Jewish Hercules, 553 
Samudra, the legend of, 588, 589 
Samuel, government of, 553, 554 
Sanbitas, the, what? 425, 426 
Satan in the book of Job, 563, 564 
Saturday, holy, in the Catholic 

Church, 55 
Scala Santa, the, 128 
Sect, Johannine, trace of a, 616 
Self-consecration common to all 
religions, 88; its nature, 89, its 
elements, 89 
Sennacherib, legend of, 556, 557 
Sermon on the Mount, 350, 351 
Shakers, the, 98 

She King, the, slight religious in- 
terest of, 407 ; popularity of its 
songs, 408 ; varied themes of 
these, 407; the widow's protest, 
408; young I'^dy's request to her 
lover, 408; ode of filial piety, 410; 
theory of kingly success, 560; ode 
similar to one of psalmist David's, 
567 
Ship adrift, a parallel, 718. 719 
Shoo, the four, 391 
Shoo King, the, its antiquity, 403; 
doctrine of imperial duties and 
rights, 403, 404; respect for the 



popular mind, 404; on the house 
of Hea, 404, 405; on the house of 
Yin, 406; counsels of the-Duke of 
Chow, 406; of the Duke of Ts'in, 
406 
Shun, heaven's choice of, as king, 

399, 400, 402, 406 
Simeon, his recognition of the in- 
fant Christ, 231-235 
Sin, supposed physical effects of, 

36 
Sincerity, a Chinese virtue, 395 
Sneeze, afamous^ in Xenophon, 111 
Sneezing, an omen, 110; exclama- 
tions connected with, in Polyne- 
sia, German}', Africa, &c. , 110; as 
an omen in Germany, Til 
Socrates, and Christ, liis superior 

gift, 364, 366; a Chinese, 417 
Solomon, prayer of, 35; dedication 

of Temple, 83; an Indian, 554 
Soma, a god as ^vell as a juice, 431 
Son, the, in the Trinity, 682, 683 
Song of Solomon, traditional inter- 
pretation of, 379; dramatic char- 
acter of, 569, 570: brief account 
of, 570 
Sophocles, prayer to Apollo, 39 
Soul, Indian conception of a uni- 
versal, 445, 446; Indian idea of 
the future of the, 446; the univer- 
sal, of the Veda, 659, 661; faith in, 
involved in every religion, 684; in 
Kamschatka, Tartary, America, 
685; the Kafirs, the Ashantees, 
686; immateriality of, 687; faith 
in its immortality not universal, 
687, 688 
Space and time as elements, 691 
Spiegel, Dr., translation of the 

Zend-Avesta, 483 
Spirit, the, in the Trinity, 683 
Spirits, familiar, divination by, 108, 

109 
Spiritualism, 724 
Srama, a, defined, 94 
Srotapanna, the, 479 (note) ■ 
Suddhodana and his queen worthy 

to produce Buddha, 176 
Sunday, Jewish notions of, 301 
Serpent, worship of the, 133, 134 
Suras, showing how Mahomet was 
possessed by his idea, 512; the 
opening of the Koran, 512; of the 
prophet's maturity, 513 
Sutras, the Buddhistic, the interpre- 
tation of, 378; tediousness, 389. 



7M INDEX. 

the simple and developed, 450; of the kings, 554, 555; of the 

diffuseness and supernatural gear, schism, 555; of the captivity, 563 

472; the simple, 472 Testament, New, its contents, 604 

Sutra Pratimoksha, tlie, monastic TheoJogians, royal, 445-447 

rules of, 94; its subject, 463; an- Tlieology and religion, 681 

tiquity, 463; monastic rales of, Tiieology, misconception of, 709 

464-466 Therapeutse, the, 95 

Sutra-Pitaka, the, 467,468; stories Thibet, marriage in, 76; death rites 

from, 467, 468; contents of, 468 in, 79 

Svetaketu, the ill educated young Thread, investiture with the, among 

Brahman, 446 the Hindus, 73, 74 

Syrophoenicia, woman of, 244, 245 Tombs, sacred, 127 

Swimming, mixed, 460 Tongues, the gift of, at Pentecost, 

605, 606; Paul's view, of, 606, 607 

Tables of stone, commandments of. Tree, the Rumina], 113 

551, 552 Trees, holy, 127, 133, 134 

T'ae Kang, the Shoo King on, 403 Tribute, Oiirist on paying, 304-306 

Ta Heo, tlie, its doctrinal character. Trinity, Scripture proof of the doc- 

293; the original text, 393, 394; trine, 379; rationally viewed, 

Tsang's commentary, 394; its po- 681, 682 

litico-practical character, 394 Tripitaka, the, translations of, 449; 

Talapoins, the, 148, 149 its origin, 450; its divisions and 

Tantras, the, 476 their authorship, 450; second knd 

Tao, description of, 414, 417; his third editions called for, 450; real 

character, 421 antiquity, 451; dibcoveries con- 

Tao-te-King, book of the Tao-sse, nected with, 451; theology and 
413; European translations, 413; ethics of , 476 
authenticity of, 414; meaning of Tsaug, commentary of, 393 
the title, 414; its principal sub- T.,'in on the choice of rulers, 406 
jects, 414; on Tao, 416, 417; its Tsze-Kung, hero-worship of, 168 
ideal man, 417, 419; moral doc- 
trines, 417, 418; most philosophi- TJnkulunkulu, the Great-great of 
cal of sacred books, 414; a per- the Kafirs, 651, 652 
plexing stud V, 414; its conception Upagupta and the courtesan, 469, 
of God, 421, 422; extract in 470 
French and German, 423, 424 Upanishad, the, 444, 445 

Tao-tse, the sect, 413 Upsakas, 479, 480 

Tartars, drink-olfaings am'.ng the, Ushas, the Indian aurora, 434 

47 XJtikxo, a greater than the Great- 

Tathaga'ta, the, 477 great, 653 

Temple, rudest form of, known, 83; Utilitarianism sanctioned by Christ 

Solomon's, its dedication, 83; 360 

usual splendor of such structures, Utshaka, his prayer for rffn, 35 
82; the Jewish, as a holy place, 

129; Fijian, 129, 130; in" Mexico Vahuna, his power and attributes, 

and Peru, 130, 131 435, 436 

Testament, the Old, the sum of the Yeda, the, merit of studying, 373; 

literary activity of the Jews, 518; forced interpretation of, 377, 37.8; 

historical books, 530, 563 ; doc- its inspiration, 429 

trine of creation of the universe, Yedas, the, meaning of the term, 

531, 532; of animals and man, 535- 425; subdivisions, literature, and 

538; account of the deluge, 542, versions, 425, 426; the Sanhita 

543; of Abraham, 545, 546; of the portion, 425, the Brahmana, 425; 

Jews in Egypt and their .deliver- origin of the four, 427; arratige- 

ance, 548,^549; of the law, 549; of ment, 427, 428; antiquity, 427- 

the laws cf the stone tables, 552; 429; four epochs of development, 

of settlement in Palestine, 554; 427; theories of them, 428, 429; 



INDEX. 



745 



division into S'ruti and Smriti, 

429; the study of, 430 
Vedic hymns, prayer and praise iu, 

37,38; the style of, 39 
Vendidad, the, a legislative code, 

497, 502; on agriculture, 498, 499; 

on penalties, 499 ; on surgical 

training, 499 
Vinaya-Pitaka, the date, 451, 452; 

specimen legend of Purua, 452, 

458; immediate subject of, 460, 

461 ; monastic rules, 461-463 
Virgin, the term in Scripture, 297 
Vishnu, a, the unknowable of 

Spencer, 659, 660 
Visvamitra, his merits and trials as 

an ascetic, 95, 96 ; an Indian 

Joshua, 553 
Vocabulary, Pentaglot Buddhist, 

rules, 461, 462 
Voice, the still small, 603 
Volsunga-Saga, 388, 399 

Water, holy, 55; virtues of, 135 
Wilson, H. H., translation of first 

five Ashtakas, 425 ; on the age of 

the Vedas, 428 
Wisdom, Indian hymn to, 440 ; 

worship a universal necessity, 31 ; 

its elements, 31; its grades, 32; 

efficacy of, 32; often selfish, 37; 

considered as 4)leasing to deity, 

37; matter of commerce, 38, of 

Zeus and Apollo, 39 ; ritual in, 

122 
Woo, King, legend of, 557, 558 

Xenophon, encouraged by a sneeze, 
111 

Ya^na, the, of seven chapters, an- 
tiquity, 488; theme of, 488-490; 



chapter xi. , 490, 491 ; the younger, 

491, 496; hymn of, in praise of 

the good creation, 495 
Yajua-Veda, the, 426, 427, 428 
Yaou, the Emperor, and Shun, 398, 

399; a great man, 400; a model 

ruler, 403 
Yashts, the, 582, 583; nature of, 

585 
Yin. the house of, fate of, 405, 400, 

559, 560 
Yu, the great, 397 

Zacharias and Elizabeth story of, 
222, 232. 297 

Zardthustra, absence of documents, 
182; fragment of biography, 182; 
his daughter a disciple and apos- 
tle of his faith, 183; his disciples, 
183; the opponents of, 183; with- 
out honor in his own country, 
184; rejected and despised, 185; 
chief article of his creed, 185; 
faith in Ahura-Mazda as the one 
god, 185; high descent of, 221; 
his temptation, 238; interrogates 
Ahura-Mazda, 479-502 ; the favors 
he asks from Homa, 500 

Zayd, a forerunner of Mahomet, 
195 

Zealand, a preternatural birth in, 
223,. 224 

Zechariah, prophecies of, 229 

Zend-Avesta, the interpretation of, 
378, 379; style, 389; translation 
of, 483: chrouoloayof, 483; ethiCS 
of, 5U9; theologyT509 

Zephaniah, the prophecy of, 578, 
579 

Zeus, worship of, 38, 39 

Zoroaster, See Zarathustra 



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Of Boston, Mass. 

Held during tour days at Aylmer, Out., coinLineiicing June 39, 1875 

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TRUTH SEEKER TRACTS. 

No. (EEYISED LIST.) Cts. 

1 Discussion on Prayer. D. M. Bennett and two Clergymen 8 

2 Oration on the Gods. R. G-. Ingersoll 10 

3 Thomas Paine. E. G. Ingersoll 5 

4 Arraignment of the Church. R. G. Ingersoll 5 

5 Heretics and Heresies. R. G. Ingersoll 5 

6 Humboldt. R. G. Ingersoll 5 

7 The Story of Creation. D. M.Bennett 5 

8 TheOld SnakeStory. D.M.Bennett 2 

9 The Story of the Flood. D.M.Bennett 5 

10 The Plagues of Egypt. D.M.Bennett 2 

11 Korah, Datham, and Abiram. D.M.Bennett 2 

12 Balaam and his Ass. D, M. Bennett 2 

13 Arraignment of Priestcraft. D. M. Bennett 8 

14 Old Abe and Little Ike. John Syphers ". 3 

15 Come to Dinner. J. Syphers 2 

16 Fog Horn Documents. J. Syphers 2 

17 The Devil Still Ahead. J. Syphers 2 

18 Slipped Up Again. J. Syphers 2 

19 Joshua Stopping the Sun and Moon. D. M. Bennett 2 

20 Samson and his Exploits. D.M.Bennett ^ 2 

21 The Great Wrestling Match. D.M.Bennett 2 

22 Discussion with Elder Shelton. D, M. Bennett 10 

23 Reply to Elder Shelton's Fourth Letter. D. M. Bennett 3 

24 Christians at Work. Wm. McDonnell 5 

25 Discussion with Geo. Snode. D.M. Bennett 5 

26 Underwood's Prayer l 

27 Honest Questions and Honest Ans^wers. D.M.Bennett..... 5 

28 Alessandro di Cagliostro. C. Sotheran : 10 

29 Paine Hall Dedication Address. B. F. Underwood 2 

30 Woman's Rights and Man's Wrongs. J. Syphers 2 

31 Gods and God-houses, J. Syphers 2 

32 The Gods of Superstition and the God of the Universe. Bennett 8 

33 Whathas Christianity Done ? S.H.Preston 3 

34 Tribute to Thomas Paine. S. H. Preston 2 

35 Moving the Ark. D. M.Bennett 2 

36 Bennett's Prayer to the Devil 2 

37 ShortSermon. Rev. Theologicus. D.D 2 

38 Christianity not a Moral System. X. Y. Z 2 

39 The True Saint. S.P.Putnam 1 

40 Bibleof Naturevs. The Bible of Men. J. Syphers 3 

41 Our Ecclesiastical Gentry. D.M.Bennett 1 

42 Elijah the Tishbite. D.M.Bennett 8 

43 Christianity a Borrowed System. D.M.Bennett 3 

44 Design Argument Refuted. Underwood 3 

45 Elisha the Prophet. D.M.Bennett S 

46 Did Jesus Really Exist? D.M.Bennett 3 

47 Cruelty and Credulity of the Human Race. Dr. Daniel Arter 3 

48 Freethought in the West. G. L. Henderson 5 

49 Sensible Conclusions. E. E. Guild 5 

50 Jonah and the Big Fish. D.M.Bennett 3 

61 Sixteen Truth Seeker Leaflets. No. 1 5 

52 Marples-Underwood Debate. B. F. Underwood 3 

53 Questions for Bible Worshipers. B. F. Underwood 2 

54 An Open Letter to Jesus Christ. D. M. Bennett 5 



55 The Bible God Disproved by Nature. W. E. Coleman 8 

56 Jiible Contradictions ^-vvv % i 

57 Jesus Not a Perfect Character. B. F. Under >vood 2 

58 Piopbpcies ..-•, ^••^'iT-i .' ^ 

59 BiblB Prophecies Concerning Babylon. B. F. Underwood 2 

60 Ez^kiel's Prophecies Concerning Tyre. B. F. Underwood 2 

61 History of the Devil. Isaac Pad^^n 5 

62 The Jevrs and their God. Isaac Paden 10 

63 The Devil's Due-Bills. JohnSyphers 3 

64 Tlie Ills we Endure— their Cause and Cure. D. M. Bennett 2 

65 Short Sermons No. 2. Kev. Theologicus, D.D 5 

66 God Idea in History. H. B. Brown 5 

67 Sixteen Truth Seeker Leaflets No. 2 5 

68 Ruth's Idea of Heaven and Mine. Susan H. Wixon •. 2 

69 Missionaries. Mrs. E. D. Slenker 2 

70 Vicarious Atonement. J. S. Lyon 3 

71 Pain e's Anniversary. C. A. Codman 3 

72 Shadrach, Mesnaeh, and Abed-nego. D.M.Bennett 2 

73 Foundations. John Syphers 3 

74 Daniel in the Lion's Den. D. M. Bennett 2 

75 An Hour with the Devil. D. M.Bennett 10 

76 Eeply to ErastusF. Brown. D. M Bennett 6 

77 The Fear of D ath. D. M.Bennett 5 

78 Christmas and Christianity, D. M. Bennett 3 

79 The Relationship of Jesus, Jehovah, and the Virgin Mary. W. E. 

Coleman 2 

80 Address on Paine's 139th Birthday, D, M. Bennett 5 

81 Hereafter, or the Half-way House. John Syphers 2 

82 Christian Courtesy. D. M. Bennett 2 

83 Revivalism Examined. Dr. A. G. Humphrey — 5 

84 Moody's Sermon on Hell. Rev. J. P. Hopps, Loi^Uon 2 

85 Ma'ter, Motion. Life and Mind. D. M.Bennett 10 

86 Enquiry about God's Sons. D. M. Beanett 2 

87 Freethought Ji dged by its Fruits. B. F.Uu-ierwood 1 

88 David, God's Peculiar Favorite. Mrs. E. D. Slenker 3 

89 Logic of Prayer. Charles Stephenson 3 

90 Biblo-Mania. Otter Cordates 2 

91 Our Ideas of God. B. F. Underwood...: l 

92 The Bible; is it Divinely Inspired? Dr. D. Arter 3 

93 Obtaining Pardon for Sins. Hudson Tuttle 1 

94 Tne New Raven. Will Cooper 5 

95 Jesus Christ. D. M.Bennett. lo 

95 Ichabod Ciane Papers lO 

97 Special Providences. W. S. Bell 2 

98 Snakes. Mrs. ElminaD, Slenker 2 

99 Do the Works of Nature provo a Creator y Scioia 5 

100 The Old and the New. R. G. Ingersoll 5 

101 140th Anniversary of Thomas Paine's Birthday 5 

102 The Old Religion and the New. W.S.Bell l 

103 Does the Bible Teach us all we Know? D. M.Bennett 2 

104 Evolution of Israel's God. A, L. Rawson. 10 

105 Decadence of Christianity. Capphro 2 

106 Franklin, Washington, and Jefferson, Unbelievers. D. M. Bennett... 2 

SCIENTIFIC SERIES. 

1 Hereditary Transmission. Prof. Louis Elsberg, M.D ' 5 

2 Evolution; from the Homogeneous to the Heterogeneous. B. F. 

Underwood 3 

3 Darwinism. B. F. Underwood 3 

4 Literature of the Insane. F. R Mi,rvin, M.D 5 

5 Responsibility of Sex. Mrs. Sarah B.Chase, M.D 3 

6 Graduated Atmosph^ras. J. McCarrol) 2 

7 Death. Frederic R. Marvin, M.D 5 

8 How do Marsupial Animals Propagate their kind ? A. B. Bradford.. 5 

9 The Unseen World. Prof. John Fiske 10 

10 The Evolution Theory— Huxley's Three Lectures in Chickering Hall 10 

11 Is America the New World? L.L.Dawson 10 

12 Evolution Teaches Neither Atheism nor Materialism, B, S. Brigham 6 

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As few or as many of any given kind may be ordered as desired. 
The first eight Scientific Tracts are made into a pamphlet of 125 pages, at 
30 cents. 

Address D. M. BENNETT, Science Hall. 

141 Eighth Street. New York. 



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